Duskfire Glacier lluvia

maybe it's better that way, faust murmured, gaze flicking toward the glint of glacier light off the far ridges. not remembering.
his voice was quieter now, stripped of its usual iron, edged in something like understanding.
keeps a good attitude, he added after a pause, a brow ticking up slightly in dry amusement, though he didn’t smile.
his eyes slid back to her—sharp, green, and heavy with thought.
is it far to the creek?
the blunt weight of a northern man who had seen many run, and many more return.
he looked at her missing limb only once.
and then never again.