Duskfire Glacier we're timeless

faust exhales, sinking deeper into the warmth of her furs, letting the weight of his head settle against her spine. it is a moment stolen from the chaos, a breath of stillness before the storm.
his voice is low, a quiet confession only for her. if it had been you, he murmurs, they would already be dead. there is no hesitation in the words, no doubt. he would have torn them apart, scattered their bones to the winds.
there is nothing i won’t do to keep the glacier safe, he continues, voice rough with something unspoken, something deeper. and when gjalla came wounded... he draws in a slow breath, jaw tightening. it was threatened.
he feels her nod, the shift of her breath, the resignation in her words.
his grip tightens just slightly, a silent plea, a vow wrapped in touch. then stay, he says, barely above a whisper. please.