Stone Circle constellations forming skin over fragile bone

Wardruna doesn’t have a lot of answers for her whether about Sif or her personally and she doesn’t know what to make of it all. She does not necessarily feel the urge to follow him but she knows she can’t stay here and winter is upon them already, leaving her chances of actually surviving this time slim. She may have gotten a little more meat on her bones but her fur is patchy and thin and just being out here is enough to bite at her without a care in the world.

“I don’t know,” she says softly, looking at the ground. She doesn’t know where else to look but at him is not a possibility. It’s only more confusing when he’s in the picture. “I’m not Noma. I’m—” she pauses, licks her lips, and then looks around briefly as if someone might be too close. “They just can’t know who I am.”