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

gjalla didn’t move. not immediately.

she stood there, still as stone as she listened to the witch's words echo around her. flænget sjæl. she'd been called worse, names far crueler still. annoyingly, this one fit. perhaps too well.

her gaze drifted toward the spot where aspa had vanished, as if considering the invitation.

mm. she hadn’t come for gods nor healing—she'd had enough of that. but here she was. gjalla’s breath left her in a long plume. then, a whisper, to herself alone. "fuck." and then she was tailing her.