"What are you worried about?" came a voice as clear and flowing as crisply as running spring water. Perhaps there was even an icy note to it, the kind that came from voices that often analyzed and observed.
Tyr wrapped his hands into tight fists, the metal of his gauntlets grinding as he stemmed his trembling. A faint smile wrapped around his cracked and burn twisted lips, though barely visible under the shadow of his royal Stonegoat helm.
"Nothing, now that you are here, Signi," said Tyr. He stood and turned, the earth colored royal cape at the back of his armor fluttering with the motion.
Pale red eyes and glinting silver hair met him. Striking features from Signi, his wife, and features that signified she had all the traits that he did not. This far down, near the heart of the world which beat strongly with magic and life through its many roots and veins, there were those among Stedhelm whom developed new traits.