The Sunspire said that i was fine, said it from my coffin

For a brief span, Gjalla said nothing, her expression carved from stone but her eyes tracing the tentative movements of the figure emerging bit by bit from the shadows, only to retreat again to embrace the dark. The voice carried a fragile curiosity, not unlike the quiet awe she'd heard in pups when they first marveled at a full moon.

"I do." she mused, her own voice low, rumbling like the mountain beneath them. Periwinkle eyes flicked skyward for a moment, tracing the constellations that had drawn her here. "They remind me of things I can’t reach but stay, no matter how far I go."

Gjalla’s mouth twisted slightly, as if she hadn’t quite meant to say those words out loud. She glanced at the girl, then back at the sky, her tone returning to its usual impassive edge. "You needn't hide, child. I won't bite."