12/18/2025, 1:37 AM
![[Image: de30rbh-3b0683a6-441b-43e3-821f-97de2c91...kDaKDynxTk]](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/9de0281f-9de0-407a-a8c3-cff68eced06b/de30rbh-3b0683a6-441b-43e3-821f-97de2c917037.gif?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiIvZi85ZGUwMjgxZi05ZGUwLTQwN2EtYThjMy1jZmY2OGVjZWQwNmIvZGUzMHJiaC0zYjA2ODNhNi00NDFiLTQzZTMtODIxZi05N2RlMmM5MTcwMzcuZ2lmIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.X3AR7ztue9yyAPqjXnKt7hzjl9ocfI1zPkDaKDynxTk)
the wind came hard off the ridge, needling through her coat and rattling the dead grass flat against the earth. gjalla stood where the stone broke through soil, head lifted, tasting the air with a stillness that bordered on reverence. old scents lingered here, stale prey long gone and strangers just the same. her claws bite into frost-cured dirt and sleet, wandering aimless.
her ears tipped back as a sound carried. it does not have the naturalness of a bird or spooked prey—it is a rustle that stills when she stills, as if it knows it should not be watching. the woman does not move to hide; she had long since abandoned the habit of shrinking. instead she would turn, periwinkle eyes catching what little light the overcast sky would give.
