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intended for Týr then AW!

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the sky split open with fire, tearing long scars of light across a blanket of blue and black. a streak of molten light howled through the heavens, and from it she was born—again. the storm made flesh. gjalla. the comet fell, carrying her across the endless night, wrapped in flame and ash.

the ground scorched and smoldered where she crashed down to it. from the cradle of ruin, she stirred.

she rose from the crater in a shudder of limbs, steam peeling from a dark coat. periwinkle eyes flutter open—the throbbing pain is quick, for the gods are kind. in the swirling heat of her rebirth, she saw them: thrúd, her fire-blooded girl, fierce even in her shadow. hrefna, silver-winged and sharp-eyed. róta, a blade tempered. agnar, her storm, her strength. their faces flickered like mirages in the haze, slipping through her mind like grasping smoke. her heart lurched with aching, searing need.

others came to her in flashes, no less important—ulfric, her anchor. morwenna, her spirit-sister. they were out there. all of them. she knew this, for she could feel it. a low, broken growl shuddered from her chest, then a groan to shake away the ache in her body. folded legs push against the earth, pushing to stand. fucking sore.

「 Skill Point ― Scout 」

He had not long since returned to the isle when the thunder of the gods beckoned his attention with their great roar. The ground beneath his paws shook with such a force that the male staggered before a deathly silence followed. Tyr's split gaze stared in disbelief at the smoke that rose in the distance, his instinct to protect pumping through his mortal veins.

A meteor? No, surely not.

The corners of his lips fell into a frown, his body beginning to react. Paws ate up the distance ahead, the pounding of his heart thundering in his ears as he surveyed the area. Life was still; no fire was spreading within the realm of their island. So far, everything was fine, but what had the gods thrown from the skies?

From the shadows cast by dense woodland, he emerged. The crater before him was smoking, alight with burning embers and the remnants of whatever fell. Where the frown once sat, became an expression of stern seriousness; brows furrowed, maw straightened. As he began to take his hesitant steps closer, the body rose, its low rumbling growl causing the hair along his back to raise.

Amongst the smoke burning his nostrils, he could not decipher friend from foe. It was still a silhouette to him, and the steam rolling off the stranger's back like they'd themselves been born from the flame.

Speak, burning one, he ground out with a harsh rumble.

gjalla’s limbs felt too heavy, as if the earth itself was trying to drag her back into the grave she had torn herself free from. the voice reached her through the din, rattling against the walls of her spinning mind. she staggered, blinking against the haze.

memory tugged at the edges of her mind again—faces and voices—ulfric, thrúd, hrefna, róta, agnar, morwenna—and then the sharp, metallic taste of blood. blood she had spilled, blood she had lost. she sways, spits blood upon soil as she fought to anchor herself. fuck.

water, she rasped. her throat was scorched, her body wracked by thirst so deep it gnawed at her bones. she took a step forward, then a second as she clawed her way from the divot she made in the earth.

「 Skill Point ― n/a 」

The body before him was worse for wear, it seemed. No doubt, he thought, after such a fall from the heavens. The toll that would take on someone was unimaginable. Had they truly dropped from such a great height?

They staggered, spitting onto the earth whatever bubbled up from their internals. With a slight sniff, you could already smell the copper; blood.

With an exaggerated sigh, Tyr cast his gaze to the bleak midnight sky before tearing it back to the silhouette. Her voice, familiar as it was, rasping a single word. Water. Easy enough, he thought but his eyes were filled with distrust.

Okay, fine. he bit, walking closer to the being with careful steps. The closer he got, the more he recognised the body; a woman who had vanished many moon cycles ago. More furrowed brows. What the fuck was going on with this island recently.

Tentatively, he sidled up beside her, a small nudge of her shoulder with his own. He could bare her weight while he lead her to the water, if she let him.

gjalla barely registered his words, but there was a telling nudge against her shoulder. she leaned into it instead of recoiling, too tired to put up the front of pride engraved in her bones. her legs dragged beneath her, but the touch grounded her—pulled her from the bloody echoes clawing at the edges of her mind.

the smell of him was familiar, though through the haze she could not place the name. she scraped a battered memory, but she turned up with nothing definitive. each step left little smears of ash behind them, imprinted into soil and snow.

gjalla huffed out a breath that could have almost been a laugh, bitter and cracked at the edges. leaned harder into the half-black-half golden man's side, gritting her teeth as they moved. where am i?

「 Skill Point ― n/a 」

There was no fight when their bodies came together, only the sound of their paws and the harsh breath of the woman as they began their slow trek towards the river. It was through the trees, hidden amongst the shadows of the night. Not far, but far enough for the ailed woman at his side to feel the strain.

When the voice broke the staggered sound of their steps, Tyr glanced at the blue woman.

Storm Reach, Mythris. he kept it short, not wanting to overload the woman before she had a full chance to come to.

gjalla's ears flicked at the words, catching the names in the breath between their steps. she clung to the sound of his voice like it was something solid, but his words do not ease her. storm reach. mythris. they meant little to her spinning mind, and suddenly she regrets asking—she should have known it would not be helpful.

she let out a low grunt of effort as they pushed through the last of the trees, water shimmering paces ahead, cold and inviting. gjalla pulled away from him with the last scrap of her strength, stumbled forward until her claws scraped river stones, and collapsed at the edge. her muzzle dipped greedily into the water and she drank deep, the chill of it shocking her senses back into sharper focus. then, with unhurried movements, she waded further in, until the current pulled gently at her chest, dragging away the soot and blood and scorched debris from her form.

as the grime sloughed away, the woman beneath was revealed in full. star-incarnate come again in a stunning wash of storm-touched blues and black. her mane curled wildly around her cheeks and throat, thick and untamed, framing a face hewn in striking, sharp lines.

her eyes found his again as she resurfaced, pinning him through the dark. intense—unnecessarily so. at last, she speaks clearer. thank you. a breath, i am gjalla.

「 Skill Point ― Scout 」

Her body, he was surprised she could still use it after the impact with the ground. Still, he aided her where she needed it, slowing his steps where needed with each harsh inhale and wooshing of her breath. It wasn't too long before the water came into view, and for a moment, Tyr regarded it with sharp eyes, assessing the current and unpredictability of the element.

Storm after storm blew through the north, which made the level of the waters rise. Thankfully, the flow did not seem too rampant that night, but the danger was still there, lurking under the surface.

He released her from his side and watched, vigilantly keeping a close eye on the woman as she took a drink and finally bared her body to the mercy of the water. It was only then, in the light of the moon, that Tyr recognised the woman of blue, soot and grime gone from her features.
She was a friend of Freya's the year before, a trusted member of the land they currently stood upon.

Gjalla, she said.

I know, he offered with a softness to the norseman's voice, We have met before, His eyes regarded her, her body no different than before, and yet her soul, her person, felt aged in ways that only the veil of this realms magic could reveal.

I am Tyr, though I do not expect you to remember a fleeting face,

gjalla’s ears twitched at the name, her gaze lifting slowly toward him over the shimmer of the river’s surface. her fur clung to her cheeks in heavy, curling locks, haloed in moonlight. where once her stare might’ve cut, now it searched.

týr, she repeated, almost skeptical. she rolled the sound around in her mouth like a stone. not just a name, no. there was weight to it. she could feel it in her bones, even if her mind couldn’t place the full shape of him. her head dipped with slow grace, offering the regards of a queen. the god. she murmured, tone softened by a kind of quiet reverence.

she stepped from the water, droplets clung to her lashes and caught in the heavy curls of her mane, but she was clean now—thank the stars. a pleasure, regardless. it did not defeat her curiosity, though—you know me?

「 Skill Point ― Orator? 」

While her gaze changed as it trained on his body, he nodded at her words, his own eyes watching with a mix of curiosity and guarded responsibility. The same, in mortal confines he confirmed, though skeptics often denied his claim. He was not a stranger to the mortal ways, their beliefs, and lack thereof.

He'd never touched the subject with this woman, so she was a mystery. Perhaps once a believer, now a doubter, shunned by the gods and their foretold fates woven by the norn. He did not anticipate her fair response, and a small smile quirked at the corner of his lips, although it held a fraction of pity.

Not well, you once wandered this plane alongside the goddess Freya, though you seemed to be stolen away not long after your descent.he tried to guide her mind, hoping to unlock something from within her memory. It seemed she did not remember this life, unless there was something she was guarding within her mind.