Stone Circle moðir

Tauris stands and watches her go. She finds no appeasement in the sight of her flee.

Sanja had not asked about @Skáld. Sanja had never once concerned herself with him. The woman mourned in the wake of Bjarna’s disappearance, and for herself, but never once did she see the boy who had been so desperate for his mother’s love-

Sensitive, clever, soulful, brilliant Skáld. She gave him up- as thoughtless as how branch in autumn discards a leaf.

But he was never Sanja’s. He had always been Tauris’. They just hadn’t found eachother yet.

. . .

That night she sleeps outside under the stars with him in the makeshift bed he’d made for himself. She holds him, tells stories, presses kisses.

“Goodnight, my love.”

My love, my love, my love- her mind speaks on into the infinite cosmos until the realm of waking blurs with sleep.

My love; my life.