hearing voices through the walls
seasonal prompt/open if you want it
01-05-2022, 08:35 PM
Sanngriðr lifted the bowl, splashing herself in the muzzle and spilling a bit. She pulled a face. The girl was not... not always the most graceful, but that was okay. There was some fatigue in her muscles and in her bones from the morning's adventure, or at least, that's what she'd blame it on. Rest didn't come easily to Sanngriðr. It never had. There was always too much to do... so maybe some of the soreness she felt could be attributed to that as well. Probably could be, but that was... that was fine. She sank to the ground on her good side, grumbling as she did. The valkyrie was clearly disgruntled, but with herself rather than Iðunn. Though her mood was foul, she was grateful for her cousin's support. They didn't always see eye to eye (okay they often didn't see eye to eye), but they took care of each other. Taking care of their own was within their nature. Trygg family values-- they stick together. No matter what, they stick together, and they care for each other. Sanngriðr let go a long suffering sigh where she lay on her side. "Do your worst," she joked halfheartedly. As the priestess began to dress her wounds, Sanngriðr did her best not to whimper. The one on her shoulder was deeper than she'd initially thought, and the pain was greater now that the adrenaline had worn off. With more pressure on the wound, she began to squirm, setting her jaw for a moment. "Shit," she swore quietly, gritting her teeth. It was nothing against Iðunn, but she was recognizing the extent of the wound. Beneath her fur, it would scar. Still, the valkyrie was fluffy enough to obscure it among her coat in the end. Don't touch this at all, as Iðunn explained, she grumbled a bit. The valkyrie looked up to her cousin, sighing dramatically. "What is that? It smells weird." It was an observation, a quiet one as she went on to apply the mixture on her thighs. These were shallower, less concerning overall. She was less twitchy, less grumbly as Iðunn moved to the shallower wounds. "Thank you," the words were quiet, and came with a soft honesty. "What do you make of the lynx?" Sanngriðr was diverting the attention from her wounds to the creature that had caused them. She didn't want to think of the injuries any more than necessary... they'd heal. As always, the valkyrie would heal. SANNGRIÐR Kom och hata mig. |
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