Duskfire Glacier united in blood, we fall together

svalla felt restless. she'd returned in the early morn after having successfully recruited lorcan to their cause. the winning side, as the old gods and new would see their victory. 

it'd been decades since she'd last marched into war. so long since she last felt war-drums reverberating their hymn in her chest, the rush of victory. 

she was ready. a wildling was always ready for battle—it was in her blood, her very being. and yet, the march couldn't come soon enough. and time spent standing still felt like time wasted. 

faust was busy, readying darukaal for battle. gjalla still on bed rest, nursing her wounds. and @Blackfell...her old friend, in which she feared she might have turned into an enemy. 

she hadn't the time to speak to him. to apologize, now that pride had been set aside. and so she calls for him, her song stark and sharp as it slices through northern winds.

perhaps a spar is what they needed to put the feud she'd started to rest. just like old times.