Qeya River home & consonance

the stars above reflected in her eyes, distant and untouchable, much like the memories of what they once had. the kingdom that had torn them both down, piece by piece, lingered like a specter in the space between them.

the game of thrones, she murmured, her voice low and steady, though it carried the weight of what they had lost. it left nothing but ruin in its wake. it took everything, gjalla. my children, my title, my home. her words were not bitter, but there was no masking the sorrow that lived in them.

her gaze flicked briefly to her own belly, a subtle shift in her posture as if to shield the life growing within her. but here, she said softly, her tone laced with a fragile kind of hope, here i have been given a second chance.

she turned back to gjalla, the corners of her lips lifting into a faint, bittersweet smile. i cannot give up this chance, she admitted, the resolve in her voice undeniable. not after everything.

she reached out gently, brushing her muzzle against her spirit sister’s shoulder, a grounding touch meant to remind her that she wasn’t alone. and neither should you, she added, her tone firm but kind. the seven guided you here. with me, whatever it meant—you are here now. and there is still time to find your peace.

with that, she let the silence fall between them again, her gaze returning to the stars, the faintest flicker of a promise lingering in the cool night air.