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The snow begins to melt, notwithstanding the warmth from the two of them, but all the chill does is serve as a way for Ylva to pull Brynhild closer. Her eyes sting and water, and she’s not sure if it’s from the cold or from the fact that she can just reach out and the other wolf is right there, warm and solid and real.
As if she were thinking the same, Brynhild opens her eyes, and Ylva finds herself lost in them. It had happened before, several times over, and she was sure it would happen countless times again, but this time was different. This time they didn’t have anything to interrupt their time together like this. This time they didn’t have to worry about anyone catching them.
Brynhild’s words cause something like an exhale to come from Ylva, words failing her as the stinging in her eyes intensifies. There’s a lump in her throat, feeling like it’s blocking out everything she could say- that she wants to say- and for a long moment all she can do is nuzzle her face into the fur on Brynhild’s chest and breathe, taking in the salty honey-dew scent she had grown so fond of.
I wouldn’t let anything take me away from you that easily.She answers, finally, in response to Brynhild’s own concerns.
And Solvi- if she were here, I think she’d say the same.And oh, does she wish Solvi were here. It’d make an already dreamlike reunion so much more, if the golden pelt of her daughter was curled up next to them. Something shifts inside Ylva, at the thought of it, and she finds herself huffing out a tiny laugh into Brynhild’s fur as if that will ease the pang in her heart at the idea of Solvi’s whereabouts- her wellbeing- being unknown to them both.
