All About the Aesthetic

When Aesir asked Valk to keep him apprised of going-ons, he hadn't expected her to have already found herself in the midst of something. To be fair he shouldn't have been surprised. He still had no idea how long she had already been in the area, but still it was a pleasant surprise. "I can do better than that," she led, seeming to hinge on the edge of something. Aesir did his best to play it cool. He sniffed and regarded her levelly. "Careful, they like to sing the silly songs as well. Wouldn't want to end up on the wrong side of history, would we?"

But she carried on, talking about packs so content they didn't even bother to check up on the borders they drew. Aesir pictured them fat, lazy, and comfortable. He grinned and rolled his eyes. "Now you're just teasing. I'll be dreaming of fat little piglets all winter long, no thanks to you. I had gathered that the region was ripe, but this?" He rolled his eyes. "Seems too good to be true, if you ask me." Aesir hummed.

It was possible that youthful exuberance might have been lending matters a rose-tinted hue, but Aesir had no reason to think the shewolf had bad information. He'd been in the area for half a season and had yet to come across any remnants of battle or old pack lines. He had a hard time wrapping his mind around a place so dreadfully peaceful, especially when the land was as rich with resources as this one. He had yet to see even a trader passing by. "At the very least," he said as an after thought. "Things do look a bit boring in these parts. Seems fit that someone would come through and stir matters up." He gave her a meaningful stare, wondering just what the younger wolf had in mind. If things were being left out on platters, why not sample what was offered?

"Aesir Speaks" "Aesir Listens" Aesir Thinks