"How old are you? I have heard a few say that I have aged well." Very well, considering. The blood of the god of Thunder coursed through her veins, and pinkened her cheeks. Nothing about her would currently give away her not quite alive state.
Something came to her mind, something that she had not quite forgot, as it was impossible to, but Bryn turned her back to her daughter and lifted the back of her shirt just a little, the names of every one of her little ones drawn along her spine in black inked tattoos. "Do you remember me getting this last one? Magnus had you and Astrid sit on my shoulders, as if I would get up, and told you to hold me very very still. Instead you were quick to pet me, and tell me it would be okay really soon."