Moonstone Quarry Like blood upon the snow

His body lifted, the light of day catching on his nape, alighting the mahogany hues like fire. Flecks of lighter hues a star-sparkle in between. ....Fire. Her limbs stiffened. 

The formality between them thick. They carried the same weight with the same stoic northern make. Would they ever find laughter and a fluttering in their hearts again? Would they ever run the snow fields with happiness in their soul? 

The Hárkonungr dips his head. A silent respect given where then followed by Anoana's own lowering of crown and sweeping back of her feathered white ears. 

And so it has. She takes a breath. The fates are in your favor this day. She says, a small smile reaching her features. Her pale eyes meeting his darker, piercing one. I know the work... would you like help with stretching it?