The hike from the red forest to the summit of the mountain had been easy for Åshe. She has made the journey a surplus of times— her muscles didn't ache the way they used to, her shins didn't splint at the breakage of muscle. She had acclimated to the way of life that Hrafnsvaktin demanded, born for it, and she only hoped that Steady could do the same.
When they breached the borders of the territory, Åshe would pivot on her foot to face Steady, a hopeful expression on her face. "I will signal him," is what she had said, turning back to the tree line.
With a gesture of her head, she leaned backward, letting loose a gentle howl that could stretch across the mountainside of Morðfjall.
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