She belongs here. This wall. This far, cold, northern place. She belongs to it and it belongs to her. In every way that matters this wall is hers. Sanngriðr had returned, and something inside her had snapped. Gone cold. Gone for broke and come up broken. That was nothing new to her. The dark, cold thing in her chest? That was new. That was new and she was learning to embrace it. The glimmer in her eye and the way she carried herself, all of this was new. Everything was new, and everything was worse.
Embracing the worst version of herself. That was what the valkyrie was doing now. She climbed atop her wall and fixed her gaze out in every direction. Scanning slowly, carefully. Taking all of it in. Spring would come soon enough, but it was still deep winter in the far north. Excellent. Beautiful. A fitting landscape it was-- just as cold and brutal as she. For now Sanngriðr would stand on top of the world, and she would wait.
Wait for what? Dinner, probably. Dinner or something worth her time. A lone sentry, tense and waiting. The sun hung low around her shoulders to the west, and Sanngriðr's shadow grew long. It proved her point that you don't need physical prowess to have a presence.
"Sanngriðr"
Sanngriðr speaks with a Swedish accent.
Sanngriðr's threads may be rated M for use of mature language.
