Duskfire Glacier free folk

the water churns with small waves and ripples as Faust misplaced it. carving through the shallow depth until he's settled. the cast of moonlight reflected off the pool's surface now tinged with the ebony of blood. it was a proud feeling that stirs in her chest, knowing that blood belonged not only to him. 

heavy eyes watch a stray patch of his fur, cow-licked and stiff with blood. without hesitation does she lean forward to smooth it down with her hand, before she lets the warm waters claim her again. his words are met with her huff of laughter; gentle, not boastful or taunting. not tonight. 

"i always bite." she hummed in relaxation. it was what she was bred for, what she'd spent countless years running herself ragged for. but then there are moments like these where she isn't a wildling blade, but just...a woman. enjoying the company of a man, enjoying the steam uncoiling svelte muscle.

their shoulders brush. and for a fleeting moment, Svalla allows herself to lean against him. weightless and calm. unbothered by the war, emotions, anything that may ruffle the white sparrow's feathers. "but even i need my rest. as do you." 

because if anything, Faust needed it the most. the fight for the glacier's claim was a constant, never-ending battle. and now, coupled with the war on the horizon? he needs a sliver of peace. and she is happy to share it. 

she watches him for a beat. seeing things that most couldn't, like the slightest slack of his shoulders, or the tufts of unruly fur that never laid flat. and then her eyes slide away to gaze up at the night sky. constellations and stars she'd always found wondrous when she wasn't fighting or biting. 

"what is your plan, when the war is over?" comes her question. not prying, and there is no bite to it. she simply wishes to know what the man is thinking. wants to know what goals drive him to fight so vehemently.