Duskfire Glacier hel kallar. við svörum.

red eyes linger upon the stump, on the blood-soaked soil. the silence that follows is not peace. it’s presence.
then, at last, his eyes shift to faust.
it is done. words that etch coldly into the frost of the long night.
he turns, and it is unceremonious, but weighted with cold. eyes vicious in the cold of the dark. when the war is won, blackfell's voice is cold as shrapnel, all will reveal.

exit BF