Torrhen wore a white, woolen cloak as he stepped towards the collosal Weirwood tree. His father had long since passed, but he imagined that one of the deer gawking out from the woods beyond still held his father's spirit. Magnak held him by the shoulders as he approached, as the oldest man, he was the closest thing to a “Head of the family” him and Asha had. It had taken a bit of convincing, for the ceremony was extremely unorthodox, but he had eventually agreed to be the one to give Torrhen away. Harn waited in front of the tree, in a wolfskin cloak that his father had once worn at his wedding.

Magnak spoke, “Are you Harn The Canter, son of Horn of the White Tree?”

Harn grinned at his new Husband, “I am indeed.”

Magnak continued, “Are you Torrhen Wargson, son of Tormund Deerskin?”

Torrhen faced the Weirwood to speak, “I am indeed”.

It was Harn’s turn to speak, “Are you Magnak Crowson, head of the Wargson family?”

“I am indeed.” he said, nodding to Harn. He continues to Torrhen, “Do you, Torrhen Wargson, accept this man Harn The Canter, as your husband for this day, and for all the days to come?”

Torrhen smiled broadly and said, “I take this man”, as he stepped forward, and took Harn’s hand as they knelt down in silent prayer to the Weirwood.

Then they rise, and Harn removes Torrhen’s white wool cloak, and replaces it with a deerskin one. He then, with difficulty, picked Torrhen up in his arms and walked with him down to the camp, where the feast was beginning.