Shifted. Changing. Broken. Björn is struggling to process all of the feelings, all of the shitty thoughts, all of the aching in his ribs. From the bullshit with his father to the red skies, the promise of Ragnarök hanging in the air. Fueled by chaos, but still aching in his ribs. The boy is near manic. Björn can't help himself. He edges toward the mountain.

Gaze chilly, the boy finds it... quiet. Too quiet. It's a ghost town, as he makes his way up the slopes. There's nothing left here. A fitting monument to his father's failings. The bitterness that lives in his chest is unmatched. Unchained. Unhinged... though no more or less unhinged than the rot prince himself.

It's a cold, autumn afternoon. No snow yet, though the threat of it hangs within the grey clouds. Was there anyone left? Björn had drawn Lumi in with the promise of adventure, freedom, and all the worst life had to offer. Did more of his siblings remain? Björn tipped his head back, an echoing call over the abandoned mountain. For a place that had been his home for so long, why did it feel like he shouldn't be here?

"speech"

coded by NachoMumma

Cold. Alone. Forgotten. Heiðinn was no more. Hemlock was a withering memory. His parents were dead and gone. His family was scattered and forsaken. And Hallvarðr? He sat alone at the top of the mountain ledge, gazing down the steep cliffs and ravines at the world below the mountain. He had refused to leave his home; refused to abandon his family's kingdom and mission. This was where they had all been born. Where they had suckled at their mother while their father told them stories of glory and conquest. It was here where they had grown up and here where they all belonged. Hell, even his name meant defender of the mountain! This was his home. This was where he was meant to be.

And so Hallvarðr continued to sit sentinel, keeping watch over the mountain and spying on the wolves down below. More than once he had chased off trespassers and brave predators alike, all who would dare to set foot on his family's mountain. But as the scent markers faded and the mountain was once more claimed by the wild lands, Hal found himself fighting an endless battle. A lone soldier holding the line against the world. The autumn was cold on the Maw, clouds hanging heavy like a blanket toward the peaks. The great dire wolf sits unmoving, watching—always watching. Movement down below catches his attention. Another wolf; another trespasser. Fangs bare in a growl, but that growl is stifled by the call that breaks through the wind.

Brother...

The massive brute rises to his paws and walks well-tread paths down the mountain slopes. When he arrives at the lower cliffs, he does indeed find the wolf he thought was gone. Björn stands as tall as him, stocky too, both wolves looking just like their sire. Hal fixes Björn with steely eyes cold as ice, his guard gradually beginning to lower as he sizes up his brother. It's good to see his family again. "Didn't think I'd be seeing you again," he speaks in gruff grunts, his voice husky from disuse. Not many to talk to on an empty mountain. "Vår familj är borta. Vårt hem är borta. Det finns inget kvar av oss nu."

"Hallvarðr Trygg"

Björn would always regret the unmistakable look about him. His father's son, though now, that's in name only. Hell, barely in name. If the man had gripped him much longer, perhaps he'd been stripped of the Trygg name as well. Did he even want it? There's too much pride in him to let it go, even if things felt... sour. Like rust in his mouth. An aching at the back of his throat, the feeling of placing your hand on a hot stove. Too many negative feelings about his father to continue sinking his teeth into.

The rot prince needed to move on. To make what he could of himself, and to do better. Was there anything better for him? No, Björn is on a collision course with knowing better and doing worse. Straightening himself, though he's not alone on the mountain for long. Hal comes from the mist, drawing his gaze immediately. Two mountainous boys, sizing each other up. Staring, for a long moment.

"Didn't think I'd be back." But now, with the mountain empty, the rot prince's course had shifted. "Are we not still here? We have everything that matters. We never needed them to tell us what to do, and the day is ours now. Every day is ours now." The air of a mad preacher seizing his words, Björn takes a step toward his brother. "Come with me. We're going to take on the world."

"speech"

coded by NachoMumma