Cassiopeia's View And I'm still so blue,

Gjalla’s heart stilled as Morwenna’s breath ghosted across her fur, a tether of warmth pulling her back into a past she’d tried desperately to forget. It was all at once a balm and a raw ache—her sister’s embrace, her murmured words, the familiar weight of their bond wrapping around her like a shelter she hadn’t known she needed. She softened, pressing her forehead gently to Morwenna’s as if grounding herself in the presence she’d thought lost to memory.

Morwenna’s question, whispered in their mother-tongue, stirred Gjalla from her silence. She pulled back just enough to meet her sister’s gaze, a faint smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, laced with a touch of wry humor that masked the bittersweet sorrow lodged in her chest.

"Ao pendagon nyke would've umptan isse evenspire tolī everything pōnta gōntan naejot ao?" She murmured, a fierceness threading her tone. "Issa pazavorve iksos naejot ao, mo. Va moriot."