Hesiq Tarook

"Good luck finding a replacement board, Gil. I'll stay here where it's still warm. And since I have so little to spare on necessities, the last thing I need is some zealous hawker convincing me out of my last bit of coin."

He watched his friend trundle off toward the selling floor, then sat back. When Dolly arrived again, Hesiq's eyebrows shot up at her claim. It seemed preoposterous, here at the foot of a major mountain chain.

"Are you serious?" he asked incredulously. "Then what do you make of it? This isn't just a light dusting to be passed off so trivially, if you ask me. Aren't you deadly curious to know what's behind it?" He didn't care at all if she asked him, but the point was made. All her life here, snowless, then this without even the expected eager comment to visitors about how odd it was. One would think it would be the biggest topic of conversation, not a deformed sibling in the attic. Didn't seem right.

Then again, Hesiq was often given to see conspiracies behind unexpected, unpredictable events. Some call it superstition. He considers it an observational tool--something to prompt him to get to the bottom of things. To know how and why it happened. If a scroll he'd written to create a gallon of water produced wine, instead, he wouldn't just shrug and ignore it--it would be, at the very least, an event to discuss, if not immediately investigate.