Frigg has free-floating anger, nothing new to see there. She’s starting to figure out how much it sucks to tank for a group that cares about entire races, because that more or less reduces to tanking for those races. Every wood-elf death she did not prevent while demolishing an entire battalion of tanks is a source of frustration for her.

And she’s going to have another source of frustration, soon enough.

It was as challenging to write Fr’Nj and Scipio’s vibe here as it is for Fr’Nj to navigate this changed world. The simple, transcendent joy of their early moments together is gone, and Fr’Nj’s people are facing so much tsuris it feels like they might never get it back. If all they were after together was a bit of fun, or to satisfy a powerful short-term urge, then they would’ve quietly gone their separate ways here: mass graves are real boner-killers. But each communicates, with gestures more than with words, that they hope they’ve found something deeper than that.