Stavanger Bay escape from the fade

Flower-queen suits her well. Whatever would happen if Nefris slept on her job, and those petals were gone? Leaving only but thorns. There’d been hints of it; of the turmoil that struck her down before, leaving her on death’s door by her own undoing. Yet still, she thrives on, with her Champion the only one she trusts in her blind spots.
True as the storm’s words may be, there is also a falsity that lies within; her need of Nefris ends not with protection, it is just the beginning—the shoreline where underneath there is a bonus of wants that lurk, too.
Kind of you to think me pretty, she hums with the arch of a brow—taunting, for she knows how she affects the druid warrior. Yet the reach of the falls is within their grasps now, and Valyri wastes no time in striding from the foliage of trees to the brief clearing at it’s bed. A great lake lay at her feet, and above, a sight that would take one’s breath away.
She pauses, lifting her gaze from the roaring of the first falls up along to the second. It hits her all at once; she’s seen this place before. This is what she’s been searching for—the flashes of imagery from dreams that called her here. The obsession to find waterfall after waterfall ever since, and this. This is it.
Nefris, she breathes out slow, breath strangled in her throat as she steadies herself. My visions… they lead us here.