hela-of-the-norns started following you
The word slipped weakly past his lips, carried upon a soft, breathless whisper incongruous to his own ears. The only emotions to color his features were shock and disbelief, merged with an underlying sense of callow relief. So thoroughly was his form brought to stillness by the power of his palpable incredulity, issued forth from the sight of one woman in the entirety of the Nine Realms who he had once believed he would never see again. One of whom he had once thought to be gone from him forever - no, perhaps until Niflheim called out for his soul.
So deeply had he rooted himself upon these morose assumptions, these woeful conjectures, that her presence before him proved to be all the more rattling, freeing him of his poisonous misgivings. For this moment, a scenario one would only affectionately dream for, the only thing the great wolf could do was stare, mouth ajar as a dumbstruck fool would present it. Soon enough, his hardened will tore him from his stupor, murmuring, “Hela.” A confirmation. Yes, this woman was his sister. His beloved, precious sister who would burrow her face into his fur and playfully tug his ears. Older now, grown.
After giving a light shake of his head, he slowly approached her with the silent but steady gait of a predator. “Sister,” he rumbled, “is it you? Surely this is no mere fabrication sprung forth from the mind of a lonesome creature.”