Firestone Hot Springs 'cause i'm through, when the two

we can exit in one or two more rounds if you'd like!

Y’var’la's eyes flickered, the question settling over her like a cloak, as if she had not truly expected the weight of it. Rökkur’s response was careful, a quiet inquiry wrapped in curiosity, and she found herself caught off guard. What do I want to be remembered for? The question echoed in her mind, swirling with the remnants of past ambitions and hidden desires she hadn’t dared to voice aloud.

Her expression softened as she met his gaze. "I don’t believe I want to be remembered as one thing," she mused aloud, her tone uncharacteristically candid. "A legacy of strength, perhaps—yes—but also one of cunning. I want to be remembered for shaping the tides, for moving the world rather than merely existing in it." A woman of change, she always was.

She paused, watching as he shifted in the water, his body a mass of scarred history, each mark a testament to the life he had lived, the choices made, the battles fought. A man of blood, a man of faith. It was a fitting duality.

"Do what is needed—but don’t let anyone tell you who you are supposed to be. That is how we lose ourselves." She met his gaze once more, a flicker of something almost approving in her eyes. Yes, she would like it here.