Long Road Home

Well. Things never really went the way he planned, did they? As a general rule if Aesir ever expected anything he had already well and truly fucked himself. Honestly, he should have known. A quiet voice, though he couldn't exactly call it 'small' sounded over his shoulder. A chill shivered down his spine. No. No, no, no, wait. Wait. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He turned, sending a hesitant glance over his shoulder.

There she was. Earthen pelt, distinctive markings, a face he had known since childhood and not one easily mistaken. Shit. "Raggeit!" she shouted, and he knew he was in for it. He had always known. This was not unexpected, though still very much feared. Sure, they had sparred as pups but Aesir was no fool. Valk could turn him inside out seven different ways, flay him with an artistic touch, and then do it again but with feeling. He was fucked. "Bastarður!" He yelped. It was high pitched, far higher a pitch than he would ever admit to after the fact (if he even survived this reunion,) but in the moment undeniable. "Wait! Shit, fuck, wait!" She flung herself at him.

With any other wolf, any other wolf, Aesir would have reared on his hind legs and even if he knew his demise was imminent, honor demanded that he lay his life down fighting. Friend or foe, he would not roll over easily. Any other wolf but this one.

Her forepaw struck his face and he took the blow. Razor sharp claws dug deep into the flesh from ear to jaw, slicing through like fangs biting through a juicy haunch. He yelped, even before he registered the ringing pain from the force behind the blow. Aesir toppled sideways and let his body fall. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Gods, wail on me all you like, but- OUCH! Sprits above, woman, if you kill me before you get your answers- OW! GODS, have mercy! Where is the satisfaction in this?"

She could damn well kill him for all he cared. As far as Aesir figured he deserved it. He had deserted his band. The only family he'd had since being cast out from his own, and one known so briefly. One that had let him in, and he might as well have spit on them as he turned his back, and for what? Itchy paws? He would take the beating. It was honorable for Valkyrie to extract this penance from him. He lay prostrate before her, belting out whatever excuse might stay her until he could just fucking explain.

At least this way, if this was to be his end, it would be no mystery to his brothers. They had grown up with the fiery female, and would doubtless understand. Knowing her, it was a miracle that any had survived for as long as they had.

"Aesir Speaks" "Aesir Listens" Aesir Thinks