Herbalists' Cache futurama

gjalla exhales slow, like she’s releasing something she’s kept locked away for too long. for a moment, she simply rests there, feeling the press of morwenna’s chin on her shoulder, grounding her in a way nothing else can. it steadies her, reminds her that even when the world shifts beneath her feet, she is not alone.

her jaw tightens then loosens again. she isn’t used to sharing, not really, but if there’s anyone she will share with, it’s her.

“i have been thinking. i.. want to rebuild stormrift, one day.” the words come out firmer than she expects, but they carry the truth of her heart. her people, her home. she wanted her naval home to be more than just a memory, more than just ash in her mind. “not today. not tomorrow. but soon.” she lets the words settle between them, lets them carry the weight of what they mean.

there is a silence, but it isn’t heavy. It simply lingers, waiting, before Gjalla finally speaks again.

“i don’t know if he will follow me.” Her throat tightens, her voice rough with something unspoken. blackfell. she doesn’t say his name, but it lingers between them, bitter and raw. “i don’t know if he wants to go anywhere with me.” and it was her fault, wasn't it?

she turns her head slightly, looking at Morwenna now, searching her face for something she cannot quite name. “I don’t know what that means for us.” for me. for him. for this thing between us.

gjalla did not do romance, and even now she had few bonds outside of loyalty. this is the closest she’s ever come to asking for guidance, for wisdom beyond her own stubborn heart. and if there is anyone who can help her find her answer, it is morwenna.