Duskfire Glacier down by riverside resting

the cold crept in through the seams of the shelter, winding through the stones like a serpent. gjalla lay still upon sparse furs, breath shallow, ears flicking at the distant sounds of the wind beyond the den.

her body ached, but she was alive. a bitter thing. vengeance unclaimed sat heavy on her tongue, but the rage that had kept her burning through blood loss had begun to dull, tempered into something colder. dawn, they had promised. she clung to the vision of sun eater’s throat torn open, of his lifeless body dragged to her feet.

then—movement. a scent, foreign but not unwelcome, soft compared to the scent of ichor, drifting through the open threshold. her ear flicked at the soft sound of paws, then a voice, muffled but clear in its intent.

gjalla’s eyes cracked open, settling upon the figure at her door. a woman. pale against the night, the scent of herbs clinging to her. a healer. she did not stir beyond that, only watching, appraising. “what do you want?”