Duskfire Glacier i'm cauterizing the veins you lacerate

gjalla next! :3

---

— he has always thought of the things sega speaks of as soft things, yet the man before him does not look soft; with pale fur dusted with grit of the wild, scars of survival. he does not sneer at it, only turns it over in his mind.

he grunts, low, the sound shaking through his chest and curling up in the steam of his breath. red eyes tip to the woman at sega’s side, and blackfell nods, a slow incline of his massive head, and a sound rumbles from him.

sega and svana. blackfell repeats, mostly to himself, voice full of gravel. well met.

the norseman’s stride crunches through the ice, his broad shoulders bowing to the path that bends toward the bosk iana from which he knows gjalla will return. he tips his scarred head toward the jutting peaks, the jagged glacier that rises. stone and blood.

you live with the wind. he notes. we live with the ice. he says, just as he sees the appearing shape of @Gjalla in the distance. shoulders immediately loosening with a softness for his mate.