@freljordsbard
“I am not well-versed in the songs across the lands. What little news that gets here, comes by dark wings. Lavish me with a song that you see fit.”
An epitome of forbearance in the brief, lonesome period, Sejuani prodded at the heavy logs to stir them, casting flakes and embers towards the endless night sky. In spite of the snow, her boots were upturned nearby, and she wore naught more than leather and furs.
Cool blue was cast upon the bard from across those flames, her expression an unreadable mixture.









