Sawtooth Spire light be sinister

In her blood ran the power of the ancients. Those that came from the stars, those whose blood had fallen on battlefields, those who had claimed mountains and forests and spires of ice - she bore them all in her blood. She knew it too. Without question, there was nothing but perfection in her DNA - even with the shortcomings of her family members she knew it. She drew in a deep breath as the rain began, making her way along the tooth of the spire. She was drawn to it, for whatever reason, and the rocky edges of the mountain were familiar to her as her own Palisades. Lightning light up the sky above her and for a moment the soaked Tyr lifted her head to watch the way it bounced from the rocks along the ground across the water that flowed down - all of it. 

There was a beauty, in a sense, in the chaos of the storm and in the way the world opened up for it. Needy, greedy, the world took what it needed and the rest - well, it didn't care. In many ways, Eshe was like that too. Determined as her father, cunning as her mother, and even those she had not known she knew she had touches of others in her too. Another boom of thunder and she snorted, the stories of the Odinson had never impressed her. She returned to her climb.