Permafrost Hollows Who does she think she is?

@Mother Temptress MT is still more than welcome to join, but i'll take anyone

Qeorvik, poor handsome Qeorvik. He did not like to be alone. He was far too good-looking not to be seen, and it was lonely when there was no one around to praise him. Halldóra was nowhere to be found, perhaps sick of him, like the rest had been.

No one so far had stayed in Qeorvik’s life. But to him – for his sanity – this only meant that they were unworthy of him.

It was morning now, colder than the morning before, and the snow fell in a steady drift. The silver-footed ranger emerged from the depths of the protective hollows beneath the mountain and started his journey westward. Nose to the ground and snow blanketing his back, he searched.