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In the silence, for just a second, Ylva tries to take in every little detail of Brynhild’s face and burn it into her memory. Her Blade’s smile is small and warm, and Ylva wants nothing more than to have her keep that look on her face for as long as possible. She’s sure the look on her face mirrors Brynhild’s, something tiny and completely overjoyed in her own way.

And- oh, she couldn’t stop smiling if she wanted to.

As Brynhild nuzzles closer, Ylva’s eyes flutter shut. Not sleeping, not quite, despite the way everything in her is relaxed and content. The cold is still too prominent for that, and her thoughts are still too scattered, in the best way, to give her that opportunity. She’s just left to soak in the warmth, the comfort, that the other wolf brings with her, something she can take in without any reservation now.

I’m sure it will. Her optimism is genuine, this time, as she speaks with the sort of confidence that mirrors it. Maybe it’s silly, in comparison, but she can’t imagine that a place that led her to Brynhild again would rob them of new opportunities. Things that they could go through together, this time.