silver is the grip on the helping hand
[ strai ] [ hunting med prey + healing ]
Bylgja had not been able to hide the panic, the raw terror. The reindeer, dying on the snow behind her, twitched and spasmed, but she paid it no mind as she began to investigate the boy for wounds. She nudged along his ribs, his shoulders, his neck. She searched for breaks. Her touch was simple, but clearly evaluating, even as the youth panted at her. "Eh?" A nudge against one of his vertebrae. Just to make sure nothing had gotten hurt. "I know you. You are Strai, and you are a Thrall, and I will speak for you at the Thing and try to bargain your freedom." Her head cocks to one side.
"This is what I know, Strai." There is something fierce in her eyes, then. "Anything else, you can tell me in time. Your secrets are your own to share." She looks down at the body, then at Strai. She dips her head to him, gore-slick, aching, exhausted. "This is the way of things. I am an honest woman, Strai. And I could not let you be crushed. It is simple."
Perhaps it isn't, to him. But it is to her. |
| Thread Move Log | ||||
| Thread | Forum | From | To | |
| 1. | silver is the grip on the helping hand | Fenrir's Maw | 04:10 PM, 10-14-2023 | 10:01 AM, 01-04-2024 |