Nienna Mahariel is:
a wolf’s howl in the far distance. bare-feet on damp mud. crisp, sweet apples in the fall. inkstained fingertips. sunlight through the tree cover. worn, handwritten recipes passed down through generations and guarded like national secrets. swimming in the early spring. an old journal full of half-written poems. clear nights where you can see all the stars. vines that take back old forgotten buildings for the earth.
Amaryllis Hawke is:
a warm cup of coffee after being up all night. the smooth feel of a winning poker hand against your palm. the first crack of thunder in a storm. fingertips callussed from playing guitar. scars that were worth it. the crackle of a vinyl record as one song fades into the next. half-empty liquor bottles crowding a shelf. a beloved dog-eared book read countless times. faded, patched jeans. late-night walks on rain-sodden streets.
Cadence Lavellan is:
warm sunshine on a seemingly endless field of wildflowers. laughter that fills the room. strawberry whiskey. long, flowing, summer dresses. the smell of a campfire, and the memories it brings with it. paint stains on old t-shirts. water so clear it seems to have no bottom. watching the snow fall from the warmth of a bed. quick-turned-lingering hugs where neither person wants to let go. scented candles that smell like home.