Duskfire Glacier ever since i was a kid,

there was a small uptick to the corners of her lips—a gentle smile that wouldn't grow much wider. "you are tired," she hummed. voice quiet but resolute amongst the gentle howl of the winds. they all were. and yet, no one would rest until the dust has settled. 

she nodded then. contemplating. violence was not his answer...but that could not be said for the rest of darukaal. so many norsemen with axes at the ready, so many wolves that while they grew had known nothing but violence. 

it may not be what faust wants, but it is needed. had it not been for saatsine's leader launching the attack on gjalla, none of this would've been set into place. "you would not have to meet them with violence, if they hadn't brought it to your doorstep." she offered. 

war is her way. it is blackfell's way. and both she and faust know better than any other that the crownore would not rest until he had his vengeance. 

with a sigh, the wildling turned to face him. searching past the exhaustion. "i am surprised he hasn't left to attack already," she mused, though her humor was a thin veil. and the truth is, is that if blackfell stormed early...

svalla would be at his side. it was her duty, her right.

"when was the last time you saw war, faust? the last time we lived through it, fought through it? we've gotten stronger. and now? you have the finest northerners at your command. ready to win this war." svalla spoke with conviction. 

"sometimes, peace must be broken. darukaal will be stronger because of it. we will win."

and then, perhaps they could rest.