[ Red is no stranger to rain and turbulent weather. The nature of this lightning, however -- or, rather, the unnatural look of it -- bears nothing good. He might be new here, but surely that's not normal. ]

Fine weather we're having. [ He remarks with wry amusement, head tipped back and eyes squinted against the glare reflected off the clouds above. His voice carries a distinct lilting accent, Scottish to those who've an ear for it (and have heard of the place, far away as it is). Another flash of lightning streaks horizontally across the sky; no thunder comes. Red's brows scrunch. ]

Please tell me it's not always like this.

[ The folks here in Solvunn have been kind from the start. They seem warm-hearted, hard-working folk, the sort of community spirit in them that Red finds familiar and heartening. If he's been brought here and here he must stay for now, then the least he can do is pitch in. There's plenty around to do.

Red makes his rounds through the settlement, asking where he can help. He's no carpenter, but he can hold a hammer. He ends up assisting with the mending of fences, windows and other damages, carrying heavy items for locals less equipped to do so in a hurry, and of course... going after the goats. ]

Now how on God's green earth did you get all the way up there, wee one?

[ He stands beneath a sprawling tree somewhere just at the outskirts of the primary settlement, arms crossed as he stares up at the little black goat urgently bleating up in its branches. To anyone passing by, he'll turn and wave them over. ]

Ho there, mind lending a hand?