The air was crisp, mountain-cold and clean, filling her lungs with a chill that was as much a comfort as it was a challenge. Around her, the world lay quiet, the valley below dipped in shadow, only faintly illuminated by a wash of starlight. The gentle rise she’d climbed was forgiving before they gave to the sharper, unforgiving teeth of the mountain, its treacherous paths barely marked, save by a scattering of rocks and spindly trees clinging to the crags.

She had no real intention of braving those paths tonight, but her gaze traced their path nonetheless. It had been some time since she’d felt the thrill of danger, and in the quiet of the night, she found her mind restless. Morwenna was somewhere nearby—or maybe not, she didn't remember. Gjalla had slipped away as soon as the stars appeared. Solitude had always been her solace, a balm to the storm that churned inside her.

She settled down on a rocky outcrop, cold stone pressed against her belly. A rare, soft smile ghosted across her lips as she tilted her head back to drink in the stars. Here, she wasn’t bound to anything—no duty, no struggle. Here, she was simply herself, and the night knew her as she was.

A quiet exhale, and she closed her eyes briefly, feeling the vastness above her and the grounding solidity beneath. For a fleeting moment, she could believe that this was all she needed: the stars, the solitude, and the steady silence of the mountain that would never ask anything of her.

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