“I do. I used to be a mirror of Dvalin. It changed over time.” He shifts the fallen tree. It isn’t moving far enough. He braces his body against it and shoves.

He snorts a puff of icy fog. “There it is.” He leaps over the pile and trots over to the fallen tree keeping the pile of debris blocked in. He studies it and grabs it. The tree doesn’t budge.

Hm. He studies it again and trots back to Albedo. “I’ll handle it later. Shall we?” Back to work.