from the edge of the world to the highest heights

Björn Trygg · 11-03-2024, 09:07 PM

There's little comfort, these days. Björn has been out on his own, exploring, scheming. Stewing in his poor feelings and his anger. The bitterness that lived in his chest, aimed at his father. The loss of his mother, still hanging around his shoulders. Though he wouldn't say it out loud, he missed her. He missed the man his father was, in those days, too. Funny how things could change in a year... funny in a sad way, not a genuine way. You know how it goes.

Padding carefully up the mountain that mirrored his childhood home, Björn looks out over it. The porous stone beneath his paws scraped the pads, dug in awkwardly. Though he's just in the foothills, the destruction that called this place home was clear. Ghostly outlines of trees, buried beneath the cooled lava. It's a wasteland. What had it looked like in its heyday? The boy is curious as he explores, trying to push the lurking form of the Maw from his mind.

You can never go home again, after all.

BJÖRN
Ragnarök awaits.

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from the edge of the world to the highest heights

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Björn Trygg