The trek back to Morðfjall had been swift. Åshe knew her way through the lands well enough to not sweat about her sense of direction.
She had been quiet on their journey, mouth too full of herbs to say anything. A slight, natural shiver went down her spine as they entered the borders of her home, the summit of the mountain looking all the more intimidating from here.
Åshe paused beneath a canopy of conifer trees, laying the bouqet of herbs in her mouth down at her feet. Her eyes looked to Aakron, his scars, mis-matched colored eyes. Her expression could only be read as grateful.
"Will you stay?" She asked quietly.
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