BWP they all pretend i have form

It had whispered to them, calling the lovers towards the great expanse of land between the mountains of Northfall and Dawnbreak. An unknown landscape that Dal had only ever seen in glimpses up on the mountains. She never quite looked down as much as she looked out into the world. The spotted dove couldn't resist the summons; it pulled at her heart — something was out there, waiting for them. Though a pit swirled in her stomach, one she tried to ignore, what if it wasn't the runes that called them, but the purple snow? The gray clouds overhead grew thicker as they headed North, when previously, their date by the river had them scattered about. She prayed silently that they didn't hold the suffocating violet snow that Tibbi had talked about — and that she had seen atop the mountain, before they made their way down.

With hope guiding them both, and the small tinge of worry, she walked aside Nóttin, barely letting their sides sway away from touching. She needed him as support, as curious as she was, she had a duty to be there for her love as well. She didn't want him to worry about her running ahead into the vast unknown. They'd already detoured their original path to Northfall for a voice whispering in the wind. A language she wouldn't have known if not for the translation, which seemed to unravel itself within her head.

I hope this is the right way. They were blindly following where the voice foretold; Dal trying to keep from slowing them down. She wanted to make sure they weren't missing anything — though it was hard to know what to look for when you didn't really know what to expect. Nonetheless, she kept her faith, following the way her heart pulled.

Nóttin