The news comes at dawn. The way has opened towards the west, deeper into the mountains. Deeper into Bjora. Gather what you have and follow the commanders.
Come to me.
A bite down on the scar that remains on the lip, a push as the helmet settles in place upon her head. Around her they move, trying to gain courage to enter.
I can ease your pain.
She stares at the large stones that frame this entrance, the way they curve and jut around them. Beckoning, welcoming them deeper. The snow blankets the ground, and the air stabs the chest with each inhale.
I know regret. I can help you.
The eyes glow their haunting blue. Her lips pull back and she bares a snarl as those whispers tug her heart, her mind. A kick to her griffon and she barrels through, letting snow and ice swallow her into the new land, the unknown danger.
Let me heal you.
The sun breaks through a cloud for a fleeting moment. Oh how the spirit burns just as bright.
And just as angry.
Good Luck.
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