Jade Fern Grove ᛁᛋᛉᛁᛚᛋ

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ᚦ — and draugr listens. northman listens with the quiet stillness of stone beneath snowfall. with the reverence of a man who has known death, but not love. not this kind of love.
she speaks of sons and daughters. of grief worn thin and soft. each name a brand she carries across the soul. he does not interrupt. not once. it is his attention which she commands now, in the silence of their humble, intimate encampment.
where he does not tread upon her.
when she finishes sharing tongue of her children, he finds emotion provoked in him. a deepseated longing, a desire, not for her, but for what she speaks of. something he has never experienced—but hopes to. allt hljómar sterkt.
the name of winterhelm is provoked. he stirs, feeling discomfort and anger for her bloom in his chest. it is quelled with a deep breath, and a sweep of feeling eyes. nei, en ég skal hlusta.