Stone Circle she holds the hand that holds her down

Bjarna tried again, and came away with a roll. She fell to her back and lay there for a moment, during which time Sanja tried not to fret; she knew she had been resilient as a child, and expected as much from this girl. Bjarna was odd-looking and perhaps weak from her abandonment, but she had lived somehow. A fall would not break her.

It did break the rib, though. The child held it in their teeth, pinned by the curve. Sanja praised her with, mjög gott! And she made a show of bouncing closer, with her tail wagging.

The words might be lost, but the feeling prevailed. Even in this strange place Sanja could communicate the basic sentiments.