Duskfire Glacier the gods call your name

her search was in haste. pure raw, hurried haste. skittering to and fro, searching for herbs she was hardly familiar with. and yet she would gather whatever she could find amidist snow and dead brush, and could only pray it would be what the strange-woman needed to heal gjalla. to clean her wounds, to breath life back into a heart that was failing. and failing fast.

with a mouthful of a bundle of assorted herbs, she crashed back into the unfortunate gathering. sides heaving, eyes set with both determination and worry. she had not known gjalla for long, and their first meeting brief. but she was blackfell's woman. and she would set aside the pride she has been learning to swallow, to help a friend in such desperate need.

this woman would not die tonight. not if any of them could help it. "here," she rasped. setting the bundle down at the stranger woman's paws, uncaring as to who she was so long as she helped. blackfell and faust spoke hushed words aside from the women, until the dragon rider stepped forth. he spoke to the woman's who's name she did not know; he warned that he could slay her husband come the rise of the sun.

svalla's lips curled with rage. "i will join your fight." she demanded. she pleaded. anything for blackfell, and in extension, anything for his wife.