Nova Peak ζ

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something at once was wrong. ayovi did not gaze at him with love and desire; she did not stand confident at their settleheart. skorpa listened closely, fighting the urge to smile as she spoke in his words.

he had seen the others banding out below them; he had not known his very wife went to face such a host! and besides that, she had found word of faust. "så han har gjort krav på land," skorpa muttered, watching blood trickle in rivuletting drop as ayovi cut away the skin.

this was their home. he would not give it up, not without another bloodied fight. the broad shoulders tensed. "we go faust. skabe— peace." they would not be at such a disadvantage, not while the man knew northern tongue.

"no. not go." restless, he turned to peer out the doorway, down into the snow-covered valleys. "there. call. say 'peace.'" a clumsy conveyance, but this was a conversation best had on neutral ground.

if she wanted to have it at all! skorpa watched her now, keen.

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