Confronted by the shape of a man most knew to fear, Helja gaped unashamedly and with craned neck. She knew before either handmaiden or manservant uttered a word that her brother came to her, shrouded in unkempt visions and tangible dreams.
"Fenrisúlfr," she enunciated deliberately, her small face just barely seen through untamed locks of pale chestnut hair, "I'm glad to see you again."Â











