Golden Glade i'll follow you into the dark

Qvasir followed her movements silently, his green gaze sharp and observant as she worked to cover the cache. He noticed the strain in her body, the subtle flinch of discomfort she tried to mask. Though he said nothing, the observation lingered in his mind.

At her question, he met her eyes, his expression calm and direct. Combat, he replied simply, his voice steady. Guarding, protecting—those are what I’m best at.

He paused, letting the words settle before continuing. I’m not a builder or a healer. My skills are better suited for ensuring others can do their work safely.

There was no pride in his tone, just an honest assessment of his strengths. His gaze flicked back to the cache, then to her. And you should rest more, he added quietly, almost as an afterthought, before falling silent again.