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She felt like she was dreaming. She had to be- everything was too good to be true. It doesn’t stop her from continuing on her path, though, still on the path of a collision with Brynhild. Her love moves, too, and it’s only when she doesn’t slow that Brynhild does- just enough that they won’t end up with a headache. Something about the motion, as minor as it is, sends another thrill of genuine, unfiltered joy through her.

Not even the force of their collision throwing them back into the snow was enough to change that. As soon as Ylva collided with the form of Brynhild, a tiny, shaky little laugh left her as she tilted her head into Brynhild’s nuzzle. I was so afraid I wouldn’t find you again. She admitted, quietly, voice breaking with the weight of her relief. I missed you. So much.

Were it not for the snow and the chill it brought, Ylva would be tempted to just stay like that. Even despite that, she was- a part of her was unwilling to even move from her spot, nestled into Brynhild’s fur. It’d be nice, to just stay there for a while; and, honestly, she wasn’t sure that she would even feel the chill at all with the other wolf by her side.