Fire and blood.
12-19-2016, 09:22 PM
Alfrun's head tilted with dreamy curiosity as she regarded the pale figure of the male before her. She had come accidentally upon him in her wanderings, in her seekings for knowledge of the gods, and had remained back and silent rather than interrupt his reverie. How very odd, this creature. Runa could not remember a time when she'd seen any of the males of her family cry, nor even yet her mother or sisters, yet this man had stood with tears upon his face. The yearling stole closer, as he brushed his tears away and began singing. Runa blinked in startlement. It was not the fact of his singing that startled her, for it was certainly not unheard of among her people, though her family didn't have a skald among them, but rather the subject matter - she could not help herself. A soft gurgling laugh like the waters of a brook lisped from her slender muzzle. "A wolf's claws are not sharp," she chided, meandering forward. "What a silly song. What myth does it tell of, these wolves with coats of red and gold?" |
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