Sunset Valley Tell it to my heart,

her chest rises sharply, lips parted as if to stop him—yet she does not.
she watches him go with wide, aching eyes, pupils trembling as they follow the path his rage has carved into the mountain. and still, she does not move to chase him. how could she? she has lived this, breathed it. the same fury, the same collapse. it had shattered her. made her hollow.
and now he burns for her—for gjalla—for ishmira.
she does not stop him because she understands. because she loves him.
she is waiting, morwenna whispers behind him, though he cannot hear it. her voice breaks upon the words. she is waiting for her father.
her legs falter beneath her. not from weakness, but from release. she sinks where he stood only moments before, head bowed in reverence not to gods—but to vengeance. and in that stillness, where only the wind dares whisper, the queen of the stars closes her eyes and prays that blackfell finds his daughter whole.
that he returns whole, too.