Bearclaw Valley Jakt

Inkeri tilted her ears forward, the soft hum reminiscent of the sound her mother would make when she was not angry.

Inkeri did not know if her sister could bring about peace, but it was Anja. Anja. For Anja she would do what was required, she would follow, and fight and possibly die. Always for Anja. Her second heart, the soul outside her body. Always Anja.

Inkeri gave a mirthless laugh, it was true. She nodded her head in agreement, it was very true.

Inkeri blinked at her and shrugged a shoulder. If they come after me I die. If they come after Anja. I fight. If my death is what Kvit would like or even Svart for surely both gods have cursed us. Then my life blood they shall have.::