Chimera Fields All the fear and the fire

Cole returned her gaze with a small nod, the foreign words lingering in his mind. Þula. He repeated it silently to himself, the unfamiliar sound strange but oddly fitting. Her explanation was hazy, yet something about it struck a chord—he knew the feeling of words spoken more from habit, a rhythm of the heart rather than the mind.

Habits...prayers...mantras— he muttered thoughtfully, almost to himself, testing the word as if it might fit her meaning. He glanced back at her, unsure if it matched what she meant but willing to let her correct him. Mean a lot in the same.

He offered a slight, reassuring nod as if to say she’d explained enough; he understood, or at least as much as he needed to.

You explained it well enough, he assured her, his voice steady and warm. Words can be tricky, especially the ones that carry weight. You don’t have to worry about making it perfect. He offered a slight, reassuring nod, as if to say he understood, or at least as much as he needed to.