Despite the connotations of winter - on this planet, ice does not exist for cold, dead things. On this planet, it is life and creativity; an element that brings communities together and promotes healing, encourages change and adaptability wherever the flow sees fit. Everyone is an integral part of this society - from the far ends of the arctic mountains, across the tundra, all the way to the depths of the frozen ocean; be it fishermen, skinners, warriors, or mothers, doing good unto others by the foundation of karmic retribution naturally makes this culture one of the more accepting when it comes to outsiders…
A Tribe Elder is the one that approaches the man and escorts him to the palace.
The outside exterior blends almost in plain sight against the backdrop of snow, but is contrasted by the complementary orange glow of light at the first open crack of the palace doors. Almost like magic, the flurries vanish at the threshold, creating the illusion of another world. From within the palace walls, large chiseled marble pillars uphold the high ceilings, organized in one large circle surrounding the dome. Beneath it, a table for banquet, on the walls hang relics of ancient beasts. The people gathered are bright and boisterous, engulfed in the company of one another, the pleasantries of celebration, their vibrant blue eyes glistening from the crackling fires positioned to the west and east that reflect against the tribune ice sculptures. The elder speaks no word, but gestures respectively to a woman blissfully occupied with offering a child some sort of tart pastry before they giddily scurry away and get lost among the dancing in the distance, but at the sudden realization of the elder presence beside her, she turns fully; her skin is warm in color, like her smile. She takes hold of the elders hand, kissing gloved knuckles, before pressing them to her forehead. An exchange in an indecipherable dialect is made, the elder bows their head, turns to give a parting smile to the stranger and then retreats back out through the palace doors ( opened by two brute men decorated in wolf-heads ) and into the snow once again.
“Welcome -” The young woman says, in the kind of intimate privacy only a large celebration can give. No one around them even bats an eye, despite how out-of-place the traveler looks. Still, it shows very clearly that her interest is piqued. She wears no coat ( none of them seem to ), despite the draft lingering where the heat of the flames cannot reach.
“I’m Korra, Princess to the People of the Water Tribe. Why have you come?”
This is... unanticipated. Not terribly ideal, either. It seems like the whole tribe is here in this one building, which could have been useful, except that he’s been brought straight to the leader of these people. That’s gonna make it much harder, if not impossible to fly under the radar, and he’s pretty sure that she won’t just let him steal the item he’s been employed to retrieve. And here he’d thought that this job couldn’t get any worse.
As the princess speaks, Wash eyes her carefully. She doesn’t seem displeased to see a stranger, which he suppose counts for something, but she does look intrigued. That could prove somewhat more... problematic. Especially given that her first question is, of course, on what he’s doing here. Honesty will win him nothing favourable, but what the hell does he say he’s come here for? To vacation in the snow and catch some frostbite? He doesn’t know enough about the place to know what the people here do or what might intrigue outsiders to visit. Why can’t he just catch a break for once?
That’s technically the truth, even if it’s not particularly descriptive. Wash’s tone is curt and not overly friendly, not caring that this woman is a princess. To be frank, he doesn’t give a damn about royalty and he holds little to no respect for them, thus he treats them as he does anyone else on the odd time that he meets them. To be fair though, this is probably the closest to polite that he gets.
“Didn’t realize there was a party going on, or I’d have waited a few days.”
