Stavanger Bay evening bay

To think ...

Was it at all possible that mere thoughts could be turned to reality? Had these thoughts been a prayer answered by an unknown deity?

As it was soon known, a woman named Tove stood before her. A beautiful woman, at that. 

Cyrena was gracious and gentle in posture, looking forward with a thoughtful glance. A search was no longer needed. 

Sister Tove. The pale one greeted, nodding her snout slowly. 

Calling a female of close relation, regardless of blood origin, was common for those of her homeland. No matter what womb you come from, men and women who walked alongside you in the game for survival were family. Once one battle has been fought, you are forever bound together. 

I am Cyrena. She then added quickly in a short phrase, realizing she had postponed the offering of her own name. Kjalarr has told me of you. The woman continued, providing the knowledge that this was not the first Tove's name has been mentioned to the snowy audit. You are healer, correct? This is what the Bay's founder had informed her, but Cyrena wanted to hear it from the individual in question. It was her tale to tell and decide whether she desired to elaborate or not.