blod, jord och stjärneglans

*Sanngriðr* · 02-02-2022, 05:18 PM

The silence that stretched between them was golden, something that Sanngriðr would always appreciate. She didn’t feel the need to fill the space with idle chatter. They understood each other better than that. The shadow doesn’t particularly care for speaking, and Sanngriðr is happy to not need it. An understanding, a tale older than time, stretches between the pair.

When he finally does speak, it’s to state the obvious. The dog hadn’t escaped Sanngriðr’s notice. She wasn’t dumb, and she’d seen Víðarr buying his friendship with meat and a warm place to sleep. Earning (or purchasing) the creature’s loyalty was a decent strategy… the only irritating thing was that Sanngriðr hadn’t considered it first.

“His name?” It seemed rude to just call him hund after all. If they were going to have someone else to feed around camp (not that the actual act of feeding the dog was a chore, just something else to be on her mind), then he ought to have a name. Sanngriðr didn’t look away from the treeline, where her ever watchful gaze had been fixed since joining her brother upon the wall.

SANNGRIÐR
Kom och hata mig.

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