Nova Peak Nägådz

She had judged rightly, then: the Blizzardske dame was indeed the woman of a Norseman, as attested by her broken Old Norse—a dialect one would only learn for love or by birth. She had seen true… or rather, the gods had whispered true.

Aspa was, however, intrigued that he introduced himself as Ayovi’s man. So, he belonged to her and not the other way around. What a curious norseman... A detail that did not escape the Mouth of the Gods, who was already savoring the insights these revelations would bring her.

She inclined her head briefly.

"Aspa. Gudene hvisker, og jeg fortolker." she murmured, running her tongue over the tip of her own muzzle. "De har ført mig til disse lande – jeres lande. Det siges, at mændene fra Norden har glemt at ære dem..."

Ears drawn back, she stepped forward with a light, fluid trot, gliding over the snow as if weightless. She was small already, but as she moved, she seemed to shrink further, pressing closer to the earth—burdened, perhaps, by the weight of her gods’ words.

"Jeg beder kun, ved gudernes vilje, om retten til at bosætte mig under jeres bjerge, mellem jeres lande og Faust af Darukaals lande." she declared, halting just before the bear-clad colossus—though he hardly needed the pelt to be mistaken for one.