Sunset Valley Harvesting

By the sheer force of circumstances, she had been compelled to halt abruptly, her ears poised, her lips subtly curved in a faint, almost imperceptible smile. Old wounds, but they remained open.
This was the limit of her dance with the bear, before it grew perilous. If he chose to turn away from the gods and his fate, so be it, but neither Aspa nor her gods would turn away from him...

At last, the man in brown had indicated the field where the poppies bloomed. Despite their vivid crimson, they blended with an uncanny grace into the plain. In silence, this time, she had drawn near and grasped their stems. The seeds and petals bore the properties she sought, but the stems were largely harmless, and handling them entailed little risk.

Jæger, she had called to him as she returned, winding through the tall grass like a serpent. Jeg takker dig for din hjælp! She had bowed her head.

Jeg har sat min hytte op længere nede, mellem bjerget og gletscheren, she had informed him. Skulle du nogensinde søge guderne, vil de være der med mig.