Larksong Grotto deep down, you know that we are the same

You summon, I appear!
Might be a bit slow to answer, life's been a bit hectic lately

In truth, Aspa knew very little of the conflict that made the North tremble. She had seen warriors come and go, falter, change course. Collateral damage drifted like ash between territories. No great battle had yet erupted, and yet—there were already victims.

The soothsayer had carved a path for herself between rock and cliff, crawling, gliding, ever watchful. A woman dressed in black stood there—unknown to her—her body scored with marks, each one a testament to some recent violence. From the shadows, Aspa observed her with her one good eye, then let out a dry, amused chuckle. Just a few notes, enough to give her away, before she let herself slide toward the stranger.

Et nyt ansigt... she said, a hint of laughter in her voice, drawing far too close to the scar that crossed the woman’s throat. Et, der var tæt på at miste sit hoved... Her gaze lifted.

Who did this to you? she asked, curious, her tail swaying lazily from side to side. Was it a man of the North? If so, she likely wasn’t welcome here.