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

Gjalla felt her own heart twist as Morwenna trembled against her, weight pressing into the spaces between them like echoes from an old song. Her sister’s voice filled the night with a warmth so familiar, so achingly dear, that Gjalla could do nothing but hold her closer, unwilling to let the moment slip away. She closed her eyes, letting her cheek rest against the softness of Morwenna’s mane, breathing in the scent of plum and sleet that carried her back to a life they once knew.

"Shijetra issa," she murmured, low and raw. "Syt leaving, syt everything." Morwenna’s shuddering breaths against her neck spoke more than words ever could. Gjalla felt the delicate tremor of her sister’s heart, and a pang of fierce protectiveness welled up within her, mingling with her own remorse. She pulled back slightly, enough to see the tear slipping down Morwenna’s cheek, and with a tender brush of her muzzle, she wiped it away, pressing her forehead gently to hers once more.

"Darkness kostagon māzigon," she whispered, a promise waiting on her tongue, "Vyn ziry jāhor dōrī sagon enough naejot qūvy īlva apart. Daor while nyke emagon jelevre, mo." And with that, Gjalla stood rooted, a shield forged from loyalty and love, ready to face whatever came for them both in the light or the dark.