Nova Peak [m]elancholic winter

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Some part of her feared that she would wake up, as if all of this was conjured into a lifelike dream.

And maybe she would wake and the fire that set her ablaze would be nothing
more than the heat of Kigipigak at her side. Maybe he would be dead silent, truly asleep at her side, not asking the things she heard here. Yet all of this felt too real. Their scents, his touch, the rapid thump of her heart against the cage of her ribs.

She had to speak or the moment would be gone, lost to the wild winds of the north.

I promise. Forever.

And she meant it, for the time apart had not stilled the way her heart beat around him or the mere intoxication of his presence. Season or not.

Be mine. A softly worded request to him. She wished for there to be no room for another in either of their hearts. If nothing kept them apart any longer, she did not wish to be apart in any manner.

She did not have worries of quickness in such an ask or rejection. Only anticipation for his reply.