Golden Glade i'll follow you into the dark

Qvasir listened in silence, his golden eyes resting on her as she spoke, her words carrying a weight that settled heavily between them. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t shift or look away, letting her story unfold unchallenged. The anger in her tone didn’t surprise him—it was familiar, in a way that made his chest tighten briefly.

When she finished, he let the silence linger, his gaze briefly flicking to the distant mountain she had indicated. It stood stark and resolute, much like her.

Finally, his voice came, low and quiet. You were right to throw it back.

He said no more, letting the simplicity of the statement carry his meaning. Some things, he knew, were not for others to hold.

You will do it better the second time.