Nvalia

Nvalia Gryphon
Status	Active
Race	Elf
Gender	Female
Guild	Barbarian
Instance	Prime

Night was settling in. The candle on the porch flickered in the breeze, its light catching on two mugs between the women. Nvalia leaned back in her chair with her boots up on the railing. An archaic woman sat nearby, her skin was sunworn, her posture calm and grounded.

“Wildflower's coming along better than expected,” Val said. “Still half-bramble, but she listens.”

The old woman didn’t look up. “She soaks up everything, that one. Quiet, but not empty.”

“Thinking of testing her,” Val said. “Quiet job. Easy crew. I’ll pull her if she freezes.”

A nod. “She’d agree to whatever you ask, no matter the danger.”

“I know,” Val said. “That’s why I’m asking you instead. You were always good at giving it to me straight.”

They sat with that a while.

“You remember when you first showed up here?” the old woman asked. “Soaked. Broken ribs. Told me later half your crew was gone. You looked like someone who needed somewhere to belong. You’ve got that look to you again."

Nvalia had no response for that, she just took another sip from her mug.

After a moment, the woman said, “Your sister’s coming.”

For a while, it was only the sound of crickets, until finally she broke the silence. “...You sure?”

“Sure enough."

Val's voice dropped. “She won't be a little girl anymore.”

“Neither are you.”

“She won't want to see me.”

“Maybe not. But she’s on her way. And you’ve got time to decide if you’re going to meet her or vanish again.”

Another uncomfortable pause.

Val rubbed at her temples, then looked up at her with a tired expression. “You always pick the worst times.”

The old woman gave a small shrug. “I’ve seen worse, and so have you. Don’t act like you haven’t got the spine for it.”

Val leaned back and sighed. “If you want me to stay longer, just say it.”

The old woman held her gaze. “Stay longer.”