Duskfire Glacier δ

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faust, she said. no, she said. translation was not necessary. no. his shoulders lost their tension, and he nodded. he heard in some way her meaning, through the tone, through the expressiveness of this woman newly beside him.

he blinked at her. no. but northmen were not held by no.

skorpa pointed to the scar in his belly, then gestured to her own. a highflung brow asked if she wished to risk it. but he said no more. his surrendering was the way he lumbered back to the hide and to the beaten snow where they had gathered, testing the half-frozen meat with a claw.

he listened. they would do nothing. he could argue or he could let her see reason when it came to her.

faust. was that the name? faust.

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