My bad habits lead to this
[kara]
12-07-2022, 05:33 PM
 We will march into the night, We will roar our battle cries Dark paws touched ice as the large man strode across the large expanse of what looked like frozen expanse. He had touched down here after a long voyage and had set up a small camp nearby, but the male yearned to scout more of these lands. They seemed ripe for the plucking and he was all the more willing to pluck from them. Overhead was his ever faithful companion, a large black raven by the name of Hugin. The beast never was much for words but at least he was companionship. Not as good as a woman in his bed would be but he wouldn't complain. these lands had been barren so far, but he knew he might find packs farther inland. Hugin had already been sent out once, croaking upon his return, he had seen signs of packs. That was all Garm had needed to stay in these lands. Lights blazed under paw in the dead of night as he stepped over the lake and he gave a small snort at it. Had his cheating whore of a wife been alive still she would of enjoyed this sight, but not him. Ice was pretty and all but the half-blind man was more for practical things these days. Beauty had no real value to the man. A croak had him snapping out of his thoughts, red eye turning to the sky as Hugin descended. The bird landing gingerly on the giant's shoulder croaking out the approach of another. He stopped moving letting the darkness overtake the night once more. Only the moon lit the sky and bathed him in its light. His eye moved across the frozen wastes, watching for whatever movement the bird had caught. He waited for a few moments like that before shaking his head, the bird must of seen something much farther off. He couldn't see whatever it was, so there was no need to stop yet. "Perhaps it is illr merki, Hugin." A deep chuckle coming from his barrel chest. His thu'um was deep and reverberated in his chest, echoing across the wastes. Hugin fluffed at the mere thought of it being an ill omen. Obviously the bird didn't like it, but Garm could care less. It was always fun to pick at how superstitious the bird was. Walk, "talk", Think Let the fear sink in their eyes |