Stone Circle Love from the other side of the apocalypse

if too much is assumed pls yell at me

there was a sadness in the air.

this was not the golden sister she had chased into snow drifts with tumbling falls. this seemed more like the wayward girl she had first found, before she had become sister. bjarna held her close to her small frame. tiny, miniscule even against the thin frame of reverie.

ég saknaði þín.

yet bjarna had to admit she did not feel a grand need to speak beyond her soft spoken, drooping words.

she felt very much like a wilted flower in those moments despite her best efforts.