Eirwen watches ice blue eyes burn, warmed by memory. Following after, her nails grip at precarious surface. Not as tall as Gjalla, she has much more heft to her.
“Good thing about a home is that it can be built again,” she remarks, albeit coldly. It is not meant to be unkind. If Stormrift means something to Gjalla, she can make it anew, build it up once more.
There is little wish to remake the Empire, or the clan that raised her, from what she remembers.
![[Image: dkuvap9-a9472ba5-e026-4e5c-b139-9ed9cc398051.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/3JTSXtDC/dkuvap9-a9472ba5-e026-4e5c-b139-9ed9cc398051.png)
speaks common
