The Bracken Woods it don't matter if the cold wind blows
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anja stopped at the edge of the woods, alert as she surveyed the open land beyond. she and @Inkeri had journeyed far from elfenbenravn, so far that she wondered at times if the spirits of their ancestors saw them at all anymore. she never wondered for long; the visions had never left her.
she dreamt of ravens. black, white, grey; a cloud of them, a storm of them. she dreamt of peace. perhaps they would find that here.
ink, she called out softly over her shoulder. the forest ends here.
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Loner
-Only the gentle are ever really strong. -
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Inkeri stared at the high boughs of the trees, her body mostly in shadow. Wreathed in the darkness of this place, a startling contrast to her white body, but it fit yes it fit. She wanted to sink there, stay where it was safe. Be there, quiet, unseen.

Ink her sisters voice of softest velvet curled around her ears. The forest ends here. She shifted and moved, shoulders hunched, and body lax, soft foot falls.

Her sister stopped and she wound her body around her to looked beneath her chin. Her body against her's, eyes of deepest green looking out. She trembled slightly, but only slightly. 

so far, Ja. Must we go beyond the shadows. Do the ravens tell you so? The spirits that whisper
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anja's gaze, normally so bitter and unyielding, softened as it fell on her sister. inkeri represented all that the bloodseer saw in their future. she was the middle ground. the black raven and the white raven, joined as one.
if only the others could see it.
i see what i have always seen, the seer was seldom less than infuriatingly cryptic. after a moment, however, she allowed; the visions are more frequent now. we are close.
she reached out to nose her sister's cheek, a gesture of comfort.
we will find a new home, ink, i promise you. we will unite the black raven and the white raven.
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Loner
-Only the gentle are ever really strong. -
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Inkeri smiled at her sister's softened look and bowed her head, eyes away. So far, they had traveled so far. So many paw steps, so many. Here they were, on the verge? Verge of what? Of what? She didn't know. Anja had said it was so, so here she was, here she was.

What you have always seen, seen? Two bridges, white and dark.

Inkeri shifted, anxious, irritated. Two sides, it wasn't right. Right. She wasn't right. Right. No it was not okay, but Anja was not a false prophet, no she wasn't.

Unite, two. Both ravens. Both.
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anja tensed as inkeri questioned her, mirroring her sister's agitation. how could she explain? the others, they thought her mad, even without ever hearing what she saw. she didn't think she could bear to see her sister come to believe the same.
you will see when it's time, sister, she said, sighing. the tension melted from her, replaced by a heavy sorrow. when she had earned the name bloodseer, her mentor had warned her of this. she hadn't listened, but now she knew the truth of it. the bloodseer must walk some paths alone. for now, we stay safe. we avoid the svartravn. i may yet lose myself to this, but i will not lose you.
common | norwegian
Loner
-Only the gentle are ever really strong. -
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Inkeri's agitation rose as her sister tensed. She tilted her head, a breath through her nose, calming, calming. It would not do to have both irritated, agitated. Inkeri would never believe her sister a false prophet, that she was mad. No Anja was, Anja. Her sister soul. 

Inkeri could feel the sorrow so she leaned her head against her sister, laying her head under her chin. Small comfort, but comfort all the same.

You will not be lost, Anja. I will not lose you either. I will keep you safe. Safe.
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Norwegian