Bera seemed uncertain, and for a moment Freyja's own confidence wavered. Perhaps she was mistaken, perhaps this was not the sister she'd known in her youth... But no. There in her cheekbones, in the set of her shoulders, and in what remained of her ears. The blood was evident. "That's the best greeting you can think of for your long-lost sister? I have half a mind to be offended!" She chuckled and walked in a slow circle around Bera, taking in every angle. She looked well. Bound to be a large woman, especially if she had any growing left to do. A fine warrior, and a proud recipient of their father's blood. Well, looks like you got this one right Father, she thought with a sarcastic bite. At least Freyja still had her looks. "You look well, Bera." Of course, it would be mortifying if she was mistaken but she would cross that creek when she came to it. And what a strike of luck that she would be assigned to this young fae for training. Thoughts ran rampant through her mind, planning this and assessing that. She would have to determine where Bera stood, what she had learned prior to joining Yfir, and what had befallen her since Freyja had seen her last.
