"Degrees," Nida answered, frowning. Units of measurement of the cold. Please don't make him break out comparative arguments of Celsius versus Fahrenheit. He doesn't really understand the science of that. "You know, really cold but not to the point of freezing so no snow?"

Ferelden, country. Check that one off. Which could probably be used as a term for the inhabitants of it too, got it. He'll have to file that away somewhere, wouldn't want to have to ask about it again. As for varieties of dragon, when you boil it down the only distinctions that mattered to Nida were 'ones that will eat you' and 'ones that live in your head.'

"Nida," he offered instead of trying to lecture on the finer points of science that he really didn't have a grasp on himself, offering a hand out. "Nida Nomura. Flier of Gardens and chew toy to dragons, at your service. Provided I don't have to go outside until I can feel my nose again."