ardent

the wicked & proud

naraca / seasonal <3



Sanngriðr

Loner

age
6 Years
gender
Female
gems
0
size
Medium
build
Medium
posts
55
player
Poser

1K
01-03-2022, 03:48 AM (This post was last modified: 01-03-2022, 03:49 AM by Sanngriðr. Edited 1 time in total.)




With a large, raw, stripped hide, rolled up and tucked into her mouth, Sanngriðr made her way from the wall to the east. The girl needed a water source. She needed the running of water, she needed somewhere she could soak this giant chunk of untreated leather. It was stiff, though the portion in her mouth had softened some. Softening the entire thing with her jaws? Nah man, that sounded terrible. No, she’d sooner throw herself straight back into the sea. That certainly wasn’t an option. Gods it tasted bad.

There had been more predator activity in the area, and she wasn’t sure how that would impact their chances at actually making this a home. Their numbers were strong (and would only strengthen if Barghest decided to stay within their ranks, though that was only a fantasy at the moment), and there was safety in numbers, but Sanngriðr was still unsettled by the notion that they’d be in… in any sort of danger. Still, it seemed as if they liked it here. As if they really wanted to put down roots, to stay put. She wasn’t opposed. If they were going to stay, they’d need to be able to protect themselves.

The best defense was a good offense, or something like that. The adage was lost on Sanngriðr, and she finally reached the rocky shores of the polar sound. While her brother had taken on a fondness for the woods, the valkyrie found herself really liking the view out here. It was pretty, and it was quiet… and maybe she’d see him again, though that was neither here nor there. No, she needed to focus on other things right now. She wasn’t some starstruck schoolgirl, and she wasn’t some idiot who’d concern herself with thoughts of men. There was work to be done.

The piece of hide was fairly large, and had been salted and stretched once. It needed to be worn down and scraped, and soaked thoroughly. Sanngriðr set about unrolling it and sinking it to the rocky bottom of the sound, and holding it there. In her mind she was already drawing the pattern for a breastplate with a row of spines down the back, something she could create and then reinforce. That… that could work, right? She’d be able to throw the spines about in combat, and anything that tried to take her down was coming with her. Maybe the idea needed work. That was fine though.


SANNGRIÐR
Kom och hata mig.


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