Duskfire Glacier one more test

the night had been long. spent alongside gjalla, tending to her wounds. whispering feverish prayers in wildling tongue. begging for the gods above not to take her, and for them to bless darukaal with the strength for the war about to break, with the rise of the sun. 

the woman's wound was no longer bleeding. patched, tended too—it was not perfect, as svalla was a warrior, not a healer. but it would have to be good enough. 

and then faust's call for her cut through the northern winds. as sharp as any steel, and commanding. she would be at his side with haste, looking upon him with expectancy, with worry, and with determination to heed whatever he would ask of her. 

"what is it you need?" whatever it was, she would see it done.