Duskfire Glacier we're timeless

faust huffs a quiet chuckle at her jest, the sound low and warm against the cold. i hope we will have none, he murmurs, meaning it. no wounded, no bodies torn apart in the snow. war was inevitable now, but still, he hoped.
he holds her there, finding a strange comfort in her presence, a balm against the weight of everything pressing down upon him. when she promises to stay, to lend her hands to the wounded, he exhales, a slow and steady release of tension.
then darukaal is stronger for it, he murmurs, letting the moment settle between them. his grip does not loosen, and when he rests against her, it is not the weight of war or duty, but something quieter. something that feels like peace.