Larksong Grotto Ankärr

@Skorpa <3

Away.
With solemn paws she treads the ridge that overbrows a shady vale. Great waves of sunlight gladden her spine against the wintery chill, but she knows she will be seen here. Better to go where the mountain-sides are deeply rifted.
Descending northward she finds a small glen, whose wild blooms were all frozen over but a stream’s tides rushed clear. Here she would drink and investigate her wounds, praising spirits that she was relatively scathe-less with only superficial cuts save the hot flesh on her soles. The tempest in her simmers again. Another prayer raises that both men would be mortally wounded and die a fool’s death in each others’ bleeding arms. An image that tickled so she heard the churn of her own laughter.
She was freed at last and the world felt new. She could find humor in it once more.