5/7/2026, 5:01 AM
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Eirwen ? :0
the valley opened beneath the mountains like a secret kept in the hollow of two great hands. gjalla descended into it through veils of falling snow, black against the white world, her breath steaming and her ears tipped forward. at its heart lay the lake, frozen from shore to shore, its surface pale beneath drifts and wind-carved ripples. reeds stood brittle along the banks, bowed and rattling while willows clawed at the shoreline with silver fingers.
beyond them, the valley floor stretched wide enough for to support herds, wide enough for rendezvous, wide enough for a pack to gather without being crowded by rock and cliff. gjalla could already see it as it might become: tracks crossing in many directions, voices rising at dusk, pups tumbling through thaw-soft grass while sentries watched from higher ground. this could be the heart if she could keep it. it would be the heart. the vision is stinging—stinging with pain, with want. want that sank down quietly and made demands of the flesh, a cruel reminder of the life she had lost, a bright look of the life she could still have.
all she needed was flesh to keep it safe, to guard. she knows already where to look. in detail, she can recall the gray woman from moons ago. eirwen, a woman separated from her empire and yet, perhaps, ready to pledge herself to a new one.
throwing her head back, gjalla sings to her, a summons she can only pray the woman can hear.
