Nova Peak gründung

How might their lives have differed if, when she invited him for a swim years ago in Grimnismal, Wylla had sized him up fairly as a possible suitor, without the lens of imbecilic youth? Certainly, there wouldn't be a chasm between them. Even now, she could feel the pulse of her lingering pain beneath the balm of this shared moment, cautioning her from letting him get too close. She ignored it, reaching past the miasma of mistrust in hopes she would find him there on the other side, unguarded. Didn't they deserve to move past it?

Wylla whispered a content growl when he began cleaning her fur. It still felt strange to be so receptive to tactile affection when she'd spent the majority of her life warding others away. She wound herself against his chest and arm, nipping at the exposed side of his neck in an effort to coax him to lay down with her even if the ground was wet. Guilt was quick to creep up on her when she did so, that she could enjoy him this way after how thoroughly they'd torn each other down. At the last second, it began to consume her and she compulsively sought to ruin their tender moment by mumbling, ah, Gustav, which she suspected he wouldn't approve of.