Sunset Valley no gods visit the valley

It's been a moment since I've last written anything...I hope this is ok, LOL

Spring had brought a renewed sense of vitality to the ancient valley and its inhabitants. The melting snow among the heights had begun to course through the lands. However, in its midst, one remained steady. Unmoving. As though she were still frozen within the wrath of winter.

An unreadable air clung to Siofra as she sat tall alongside a bubbling stream, her eyes closed. A statue of elm amongst the swaying scenery. Although far from unkempt, it was clear that the wilderness had not spared the exile of hardships. Nicks and smaller abrasions plagued her appearance. And yet, a peaceful expression veiled her face as she lied in undisturbed meditation. Gentle rays of sun filtered through the vibrant canopies and illuminated her exterior. 

No words were uttered. Perhaps if the woman could feel, perceive enough, a trace of a divine power would make itself known. Or so she had hoped.

Surely that wasn't to much to ask. Had the gods fully abandoned her for the shores?

The winds carried the songs of birds, the rustle of leaves...but no sign. No guidance. Ultimately, every passing moment fell to waste, and the pit within her stomach only grew. Day after day. It was all the same. Eyelids fluttering open, her golden gaze stared dully into the horizon.

...How far she had fallen.

hi eusi! glad to see you on here!

anoré traveled many miles that day, her paws sore from the journey. between her teeth, she carried spoils—an assortment of herbs and flowers. she'd been purposeful in her gathering, but afternoon light fell, and weariness settled into her bones. the soft earth called and she longed for rest.
but there was a lone silhouette by the stream before her. eerily still, as though bound to the soil beneath her. anoré paused for a moment, watching, before lurching forward once more. she didn’t approach out of curiosity or care—it was merely the path she was taking, the natural course of her travels.
"what do you wait for?" she asks, halting a ways from the silty girl.

the dane carried upon his back an assortment of things, all carefully dealt. the hide of a caribou, muskox, several fawn skins, a fox pelt. cuts of meat he had aged beneath the soil of his hut.
all means to be traded with the packs of the taiga; winsook, darukaal, saatsine. he had made himself neutral and intended to remain that way, as long as possible. if at all possible.
in his meandering, he hadn't expected to cross paths with the snow-woman from days ago. yet it would be a lie to say he did not wander where she ended up going. hauling his possessions up further upon his broadened backside, ulfric comes closer, pushing past brush and stepping into the light.
a golden sheen upon brown fur, and blue eyes settling onto not one woman, but two? his brows furrow briefly, having not scented the second. but he saddles up alongside anoré having made eye contact, offering her a nod.

The wind carried the scent before he saw them: unfamiliar, lingering too close.
Astier did not rush. He moved like the creeping shadow of a storm, silent and deliberate, the frost of his gaze locking onto the figures near the border. He did not step forward immediately; instead, he watched: measuring the way they stood, the way they breathed, the way they shifted at the edge of his territory. Trespassers or wanderers? The difference was measured in intent, and intent could be read in stillness.
When he did break from the cover of the trees, it was without flourish. His presence alone was enough: a pale specter emerging from the gloom, posture poised yet unyielding. The wraith did not speak at first, merely let the weight of his gaze settle upon them, cold as the mountain winds.
„You hover on the edge of something that does not belong to you.” His voice was even, devoid of anger, yet laced with something unspoken; a quiet warning, an invitation to tread carefully. “What is it you seek?” The question addressed them all.
His stance remained unwavering, unreadable. A sentinel at the threshold, waiting for the next move. Whether the strangers would find a chance at mercy or the teeth of the frost was yet to be decided. Pale gaze lingered on each one for a while: two women, accompanied by a man; no stench of the caribou people was upon them, so they were not scouts of Sun Eater.

yue!! long time no see!!

It seemed as though the rover's call had been answered. Perhaps not by the one she sought-- but an answer nonetheless. Her mouth parted slightly agape, her head turning to cast a look over her shoulder. A fleeting look of shock flashed across her visage as she hauled herself upright. An unfamiliar, wintery maiden. Strong, scarred, but equally divine. Her presence freed Siofra of her stubborn state of thought, and the life within her eyes gradually began to revive...at last.

The lady of the coves shifted, dragging in a slow inhale. And then a curt chuckle.

What was she waiting for?

"...I wish I had an answer for you," she breathed gently, mimicking the scenery's ambience. She wasn't on edge, no, but she held just enough alertness to suffice. Her ears perked forth as yet another appearance, a man born of the forestry, emerged from the shadows. Both of the strangers had valuables in tow. There was a subtle hint of familiarity among them-- at least on one side. The lady cocked her brown, straightening her posture. "Together?" She inquired in her lower, more natural pitch.

As the woman opened her mouth, an outside force had frosted her words over, and with it, her demeanor. Something new. A shift in her peripheral. Siofra had felt the specter before her eyes could detect him. A cold sensation, directly contrasting the warmth of the day, and it swallowed her attention. Her gaze sharpened and swiftly averted to the ghost among the undergrowth. 

An echo of a warning. Siofra chose to remain silent in her position, her head raised to meet his glare.

an ear flicked as the woman spoke. waiting without answer? to that, anoré could sympathize, but before she could speak, a familiar figure sidled beside her. she does not hold back the smile on her lips. it was nice to see the wanderer again. 
“together?” she shook her head, "no, but we walk the same earth."
the sound of dry grass underfoot warrants a turn of her ear. a man clad in snow approaches, wariness lingering on his skin. she notes the direction he came from. darukaal? "you will find no trespassers here, sir, only travelers."
she glanced at the earthy woman, who only met the male with silence, "your warning is heard," she continued, her tone growing colder still, "but unnecessary."

forgive for late reply

the norseman's attention is drawn away from the gathering crowd, to the pale brute who pushes brusquely into the interaction, voice layered with indirect threat.
ulfric meets him with calm eye and relaxed facial expression, bearing no teeth nor ill will. we do not cross onto darukaal land. ulfric says, turning fully to face the man.
tail flagging neutral behind him, though he will defend both women if need be. he is not partial to any of the northern clans in the region—labeling none as villain, but none as trusted.
you may be on your way, brother.

exit Astier!

„Travelers.” The word left him flatly, neither question nor certainty; merely an echo of what had been claimed. He did not scoff, but his silence lingered long enough to make its doubt known. The woman’s dismissal of his warning was noted, but not contested. Let them think him overcautious; he would rather be untrusted than unprepared.
His gaze moved across them like a shadow stretched thin over ice: the frost-born woman with her companion, and the lone dark one; quiet, poised. It was she who held his attention longer than intended, though he gave no sign of it beyond the pause in his breath.
The male spoke of Darukaal, and for that, Astier gave him his eyes, sharp and pale. „…War brews,” he spoke once more, a simple truth spoken without embellishment. Then he turned from them, the warning complete, the outcome no longer his concern.
Half-glancing over his shoulder as he departed, voice distant as the wind atop the glacier: „Leave, while the mountain is quiet.”
And he was gone.

War...

He offered no more than a few cryptic words before vanishing. A ghostly breath among the wind. Tension continued to grip her muscles, yet her gaze released the weight of a blade waiting to be unsheathed. The troubling hand of conflict no longer hovered above their heads, and Siofra gave a quiet exhale through slightly bared teeth. But still, it was strange...

"Darukaal..." the lady murmured, her attention flickering from the man to the woman. A subtle curiosity danced in her tone. The outer world continued to sound foreign to her ears...but she wouldn't seek clarification. Not now.  She had ended her prayer, and there were more tasks that she wished to complete under the scope of daylight. She would save her whims for nightfall.

Her attention was driven back to the depths of the forest, her brows furrowed.  "Tell me,"  the lady spoke quietly. "How far does their kingdom's borders reach?"