from @eueclid: i thought you were dead. gwen and din
it's been a long time since they crossed paths. too often they're wandering different landscapes and far-away cities of skyrim at the same time (he'll hear stories of her passing through morthal and solitude while he's all the way in whiterun), but now? now din djarin stares gwendolyne cousland in the face, helmeted, hovering, and deathly silent at her offhand remark. she's not wrong about the assumption. there were a few close calls with the giants near riften, and maybe some hunter nearby saw the mandalorian warrior scrambling to get away from an angry mammoth. maybe they told tall tales of his early demise, assuming no one could survive a giant's anger and massive club.
"sorry to disappoint." careful not to disturb the sleeping child hidden in his pouch, din crosses the cobblestone and closes some of their distance. behind his helmet, his eyes explore gwendolyn's face. she's so familiar. she's too beautiful. her frizzy hair whips a little in the mountain wind, loose strands dancing over face in a way din knows all too well. if he had his way, he'd never make mention of their previous "encounters" and just be on his way, pass her by, and ignore her. but he can't. din hears a coo from his pouch and, with a sigh, realizes what he has to do, what he has to ask.
"i need your help, gwen." din djarin hates that sentence. gwendolyne will hate it even more. "can we talk elsewhere? inside?" a vague gesture at the inn beside them. "we can..." another coo from his bag. din glances down. "... we can catch up. there's a lot i need to tell you about."