Stone Circle Third times the charm?

Taktuq heeded the call. It was friendlier than Bjorn’s had been — curious, even — but she approached with equal haste. The trial against Germanicus still has her reeling, reliving all that had swarmed about them like a storm.

The gathering. The accusations. Germanicus’ silent resolve. Moss falling,

falling
     falling

Hallo, she called herself back into the present to address the stranger before her. A pretty girl, like a little mountain dusted with snow. She had never seen anything quite like her, and she might have marvelled further, if not for her eyes —

— her eyes —

Gold and blue. Gold and blue.

The witch, her skin bristled, but no, she had not — could not be. How could snowy whites be mistaken for dark ink?

Taktuq realized she had been staring, and shook herself — though she herself remained shaken. You’ve come to Kvarsheim, lost one, she said, pushing through suspicion to take hold of reason again. She would not be overcome. I am Taktuq, Modir of the Standing Stones. And you…?