Qeya River sand hollow

this song reminds me of them weeps

the beast against his ribs thrummed against her ears when he pulled her closer; a strange sort of affection, soft, and suddenly she felt unworthy of such tenderness. she was not a woman of rounded edges, always taken abide to the harsher turns of what life thrust upon her.
it was nice.
and she found herself yearning for the softer parts of her husband— but this, this— she would never ask aloud for it. she had done her damage— before gjalla, blackfell, ridgeback...
she knew what it meant for power to waver. for the front that must be put on like a cloak— a wolf hiding beneath the caribou's hide. she nudged her nose against the curve of his neck, breathing in the tendrils of his musk— caribou blood and the pine needles of the woodland he trekked through. wherever that had been.
i believe you. she said in full honesty. she would do her marriage right this time. wrapped up in the meddlings of...of leadership had left her a dishonest lover, but with him...she was a back peddle, a simple healer with herbs and oils at the ready. it was sedentary, yes, but she found herself not wanting to trade it for anything.
stark's name left his lips and she tensed. i do not know, honesty, again. kingdom far...very, very far. i run for months. she explained. he act...like he do not remember. it would explain his irrational anger, how he claimed she was traitorous.
maybe he does not. came her only answer to such questions. the wonder about his own past loomed, a daunting shadow in the torn heap of her mind, but she did not know how to ask. gjalla will find him. the confidence she had in the woman was obvious; her faith in her star-sister unwavering.