There was something comforting about the one that stood before her, something familiar. It was true, Freya did not have her brothers, sister, or mama. However, she did manage to find a seemingly impossibly placed piece of home right here, in this corner of a new world. Nóttin was a beacon of hope, one that she had long since given up on finding. It meant there was still a chance, right? Maybe her siblings could be somewhere out there or maybe her mama? It was revitalizing a fraction of her heart that was once cold and lifeless. Nothing was impossible.

Freya looked to him, tears still streaming down her cheeks as she trembled like a leaf in the wind. Fear gripped her, but how badly she wished to feel the comfort of familiar connections and ties. Hesitantly, the healer began to tread closer, limbs stiff and slowly as she neared him. Soon the gap was gone entirely, and personal space was no longer an option. Without asking or even thinking, Freya sat in front of him and nestled into the thick plush of his chest—it was evident he was made for the north by how dense his coat was compared to her own.

He’d reassured her she can talk to him or even talk about anything else. Freya quietly sat, uncertain of what words would leave her mouth. I must go home to the Saints… there was an evident sadness that made her voice crack. I only have two of my children here. If we don’t go back, they will hurt— her babies. Whoever they could get their teeth on that was close to her heart. If she were to leave, she would have to gather all of her children…

D-Do you live here? it was cold, and her children were not quite built for the mountain life, but would it be safer if maybe she brought them here?