Stone Circle Hey, hope this call didn't wake you

She leans into Vale, steadied by the firmness of her and the traces of their wilderness from her pelt.

Gunnar would know what to say. They’d known this was coming, that his grey years had slowed him. But Faðir's mind transcends the weather in his age. Tauris had been hopeful for another year- maybe two.

“I thought we’d have more time," weak arms clasps her systir, “they’re so young.”