Herbalists' Cache futurama

star eater hums low, a sound that is almost a purr, almost a sigh, and rests her head gently against gjalla's shoulder. she takes in her scent like it’s something sacred, something steady. of all the chaos that has come to pass, gjalla remains. and that is a comfort no other can offer.
then wait, she whispers, voice soft as fresh snow. stay until they can walk. they must know their mother’s sister. a smile curves on her lips, slow and warm, and she means every word. who else will teach them to be fierce?
her gaze drifts out toward the quiet, the hush of the glacier beyond their sheltered place. it is cold, but here—beside gjalla—it does not feel so bitter. she shifts, brushing her flank lightly against her sister, the bond between them palpable.
and if you are to build something stronger than us, she adds, voice thoughtful now, then let them be part of it. my children. our stories. stormrift and saatsine—let them carry it, too.
there’s a glint in her eye then, playful but edged with steel. you know, i always thought you’d end up with a woman. would've been less trouble. her grin sharpens as she tilts her head to nudge gjalla’s cheek. but you pick blackfell. so now i suppose we both have difficult men to manage.
it’s a jest, but beneath it, the affection is real. unwavering. her gjalla. her stargirl. her sister in all things.
and she thinks, maybe, this is the way it always should have been.