Helvegen [Inga's Passing]

Dark clouds loomed in the distance, the setting sun casting a golden glow across the land. Inga let loose a shuddering breath. Pain flared in her chest and she closed her eyes for a moment, turning her head to meet the concerned gaze of Branwen and she smiled softly. The crow hopped over to her, resting her delicate head on Inga’s left forearm. Balthazaar for once was silent, he rested at the lip of the cave that overlooked the waterfall. “It’s time isn’t it, Inga?” The old woman slowly raised to her feet and nodded as Branwen flew over to land next to Balthazaar. She was old, not as old as some but her lifestyle had been violent and rough and honestly it was a miracle she’d made it this long. She’d spent the past few days in contemplation of her life and the direction it would go. As she watched the light scattering in the sky she knew it was time for her to pass on. Resting at the lip of her den she let her howl echo down the peek and across the northern air for any that might wish to say goodbye.

"Speech"