now the wound breeds life

The end times felt closer by the day, though a lot of it was in Björn's head. Only his own life, or perceived life, coming to an end. Futures clouded and uncertain... so the world has to be ending, right? His father's words about trusting the gods, the fates... but when had dad ever bothered to follow the same advice? What use was there believing his father's teachings now? If Víðarr could pick and choose when to believe in his convictions, Björn could too.

With a voice of reason here, he's able to settle... at least incrementally. "That's what the weird forest of trees with no branches smells like up north. Burning." An offhanded remark, though the nerves are showing on Lumi's face too. Björn channels the tension into the search, into the quest for meaning.

"If there's a new mountain, then it should be ours too." A triumphant glimmer in his eye, though the words... perhaps betray something a bit stranger. A bit weightier than he means them to. With another great creak below his paws, and the sound of falling dirt not far off, Björn's head snaps up from the ground. Scanning for the source of the sound, only able to pinpoint that it's a bit out of sight. "Did you hear that?" Already taking off in the direction, perhaps his self preservation skills are a bit lacking.

"Björn"