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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jun 4, 2019 0:59:38 GMT
“Oh, forgive me for not wanting to curl up in little shells of a cave for warmth,” Soren shot back over his shoulder, but hesitated for a moment. Given how she seemed to like to hold onto any words he uttered deferring to her, even if spoken in disgust, perhaps it wasn’t so wise to keep giving her ammunition.
Soren completely missed Brynja’s pause, or the glazed look to her eyes. All he knew was that she was suddenly attacking him, grabbing his shoulder and dragging him towards a tree. The way her hand managed to grab the front of his tunic bumped against his throat, managing to cut short the growl that would have otherwise escaped him, landing in the snow with a grunt as his heel hooked on something, throwing both of them down.
With Brynja on top.
The sense of being pinned, especially by her, was enough for Soren to try and push her off, ignoring her hiss with emerald fury. It was the description of the pin that made him pause, eyes still alight but narrowed suspiciously. A silver crow pin? How in the nine worlds could she possibly know about-
Soren suddenly stilled, eyes widening but no longer seeing Brynja on top of him. A few moments later, the sound of dog barking could be heard, the crunch of steps through the snow. While Brynja’s heart was hammering, she was in the perfect position to feel Soren’s stop cold for a few moments, only to start rushing faster than her own. His breath went soft, in spite of its shake, his gaze leaning towards the source of the strangers even as he remained motionless, no longer concerned about Brynja lying across him.
Her timing had been impeccable; the dogs would whine and bark as they searched the area around the hunters, who called to the dogs and spoke calmly enough with one another. Had they traveled any further, their paths would have crossed. And the way Soren had stilled wasn’t unlike how a wild animal might, waiting for the hunters to pass, as if now oblivious to the woman’s presence on top of him.
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Post by Kelathi on Jun 10, 2019 0:10:34 GMT
Like the man beneath her, Brynja’s full attention was now focussed on staying as still as possible. The most she moved was to relax her hand as she became vaguely aware that it was still clamped tightly over Soren’s mouth, although she didn’t dare move her arm and pull away properly lest she disturb the snow about them and draw attention. The crunching sound of heavy boots on snow was dangerously close, as was the snuffling of furry noses as the excitable hounds passed by. By the grace of the All-Father alone the dogs seemed oblivious to their presence, but Brynja had the distinct impression that they would not be so lucky the second time round.
It was a while after the noise of the group had faded into the distance that Brynja finally began to move. She suddenly became aware that with their bodies pressed together as they were, she could feel Soren’s heartbeat through their clothes. Although they seemed to have avoided the danger unscathed, his was still racing wildly even as hers had calmed. It made sense that he should be fearful of being caught, but as she glanced at his face, which seemed as pale as the snow they lay in, it was clear that these were no simple hunters. From the way Soren had spoken before, hunters were a common occurrence, and despite being hounded by Hagen, the man had seemed more of an irritant for the emerald-eyed stranger than anything, something to be mocked and not taken seriously, even after receiving an arrow from him. These men seemed to stir something different inside of him, the look on his face not unlike a cornered, wild animal.
Pulling herself up, she offered a hand to help him up too, even though she half expected to be shunned afterwards the unbecoming way she had thrown him into the snow… sure, it had succeeded in hiding their presence, but that was no guarantee of a hold on impertinence, something which she knew by now he was skilled in dishing out.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jun 11, 2019 4:12:41 GMT
Memories as well as fear kept Soren still, his heart beating fast enough to escape his chest. How had he managed to not scent them, and they not scent him in return? Somehow, they hadn’t ended upwind of the dogs, while their scent was now pungent from being downwind of the hunting party. The winds were playing tricks, it seemed, and he knew better than to entirely discount the influence of certain distant family relations.
Soren waited until Brynja’s standing proved to not attract attention, finally willing to trust his own senses that they were gone. After missing their approach, his faith in his own senses had wavered. Slowly, he sat up, still staring in the direction they had gone, even if he hadn’t seen them. Finally, he took a deep breath, forced himself to lower his shoulders, and looked back at Brynja.
He eyed her hand suspiciously, as expected, but unexpectedly he took the offer, standing and shaking off the cloak that was now matted in snow. The reason for his suspicions this time was voiced quickly, but still softly, as if expecting them to be attacked at any moment.
Certainly, this hunter was one to fear.
“How did you know they would be there?” he asked, almost hissed, very aware of the fact that she had realized the hunting party was near even before he did. It wasn't quite a challenge, but it was more than a simple question.
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Post by Kelathi on Jun 14, 2019 19:13:51 GMT
Surprisingly, Soren had taken her hand after all, which was probably a testament to how unnerved he was. After their hands released, Brynja also busied herself with shaking the snow from her fur. At his question, she didn’t immediately answer, and for a moment it looked as if she wasn’t going to, gaze everywhere but on him. In truth, she was considering whether she should attempt a lie or not. In the few times in the past that she had let it known that she was a Seer, she had had very mixed reactions. It was either some kind of misplaced reverence or wariness, and whilst she highly doubted she’d receive the former from Soren, the latter was in no short supply from him already- she wasn’t about to encourage more.
After a moment, she did reply, but was clearly hoping he’d just leave as is. “I didn't, I saw them approach.” Well, it wasn’t a lie. She had seen them coming, just not with her eyes… “We should keep moving.” She stated soon after, as she began to walk, avoiding the direction the hunting party had moved in, as well as where they had come from, picking a completely new direction to traverse.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jun 15, 2019 2:05:45 GMT
‘Leaving things as is’ was not one of Soren’s strong suits. His gaze only narrowed at her the longer she avoided meeting his eyes, more suspicious than ever. This changed only as she began to walk away, eyes widening but remaining dark.
“You do not have better sight than I do!” he growled as he quickly stalked up alongside her, his pride still kept soft. Then, without waiting for an answer, he huffed, rolling his eyes. “Oh, unless you saw them in some god-given vision of the future…” he added mockingly, but… there was a very strange way that his eye roll swept back to her, unlike before where he would basically dismiss her. He was watching for a response that would give him a more honest answer than she seemed willing to provide.
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Post by Kelathi on Jun 15, 2019 20:22:43 GMT
She hadn’t really expected Soren to let the matter drop just like that, from what she’d learnt of him in this short amount of time, he was like a dog with a bone when he got something in his head. He soon came up besides her, matching her quick pace, and for the moment seemed more annoyed that she dared claim to have better eyesight than him, despite the fact that she hadn’t actually said as such. Either way, she was happy for him to focus on this, rather on how she had known of the approach of the men. “Maybe your powers of observation simply aren’t as sharp as you thought.” She responded, curtly. She rather pointedly ignored his comment about any ‘God-given gifts’, if she was lucky, she’d annoyed him enough to distract him from questioning further.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jun 20, 2019 1:36:54 GMT
Soren’s step paused at Brynja’s curt remark, and if it was possible, his eyes darkened a little as he glared at her continuing to walk on. It was one thing for him to doubt his senses… it was another for someone else to remark upon them.
“Or maybe you’ve been busy planning things out,” he growled suspiciously, and as he continued to follow her anyway, noting how she didn’t head either after or directly away from the hunters. If he was alone, and not feeling obligated to the woman for saving his life from the idiotic Hagan - a fate worse than death as it would be embarrassing as Hel - Soren would have quickly transformed and raced the other way. But he wasn’t about to risk a lingering sense of regret about not paying this debt, so as terrified as the crow-pin hunter made him feel, the demigod followed the stupid cow.
Maybe he could find an actual cow for food that night… he was still starving.
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Post by Kelathi on Jun 20, 2019 11:14:22 GMT
Her choice of direction had been decided upon after a moment’s thought. To go in the opposite direction of the hunters had been her first, instinctual reaction, but after considering, she had reasoned they might come across the settlement they belonged to. Soren’s response, as well as her vivid vision, made it clear that anyone to do with the crow-pin man were to be avoided, and thus it made more sense to go a different way. Not that she would waste time explaining this to Soren, should he mention his disdain for their direction. His constant criticism of her actions only served to further grate on her nerves, and she made a mental note to herself to respond calmly and coolly to whatever he next threw at her.
Well, that had been the intention.
It was her turn to pause, the falter in her step evident, which gave Soren chance to catch up with her before she picked up pace again, now side by side. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she questioned, seeming as confused as she was annoyed at the insinuation. He seemed to be implying that she had some kind of plan at his expense, which made absolutely no sense. It had been he that had decided to come with her, despite her attempts to push him away, and surely if she were plotting against him she would have just let the crow-pin man get him? She knew the signs well-enough by now, the best way to deal with Soren when in a mood like this was to let things go. But… what he said had bothered her, and she couldn’t resist challenging it. “Do you even hear yourself? How does that make any sense?”
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jun 21, 2019 2:19:27 GMT
Soren had watched Brynja’s pause, as of course she had been in front of him. But he eyed her suspiciously as they began walking side by side, so her words immediately earned a laugh, not one of mere derision but almost like her question only proved something.
“Because,” he sneered, taking a moment to lean towards her, using his height advantage to attempt a more threatening view, “I know your kind. It wouldn’t be the first time…”
In spite of the fact that he clearly had more to say, Soren hesitated, quickly withdrawing from his looming posture before letting his eyes dart over her, his lip half curled… as if expecting her to attack.
“Won’t be the last time, either,” he finished quickly, attempting to sound dismissive and confident before marching on ahead. It had actually sounded defensive, like one hounded into being unable to trust. Perhaps even literally so, given his response to the hunter with the crow pin and his hunting dogs…
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Post by Kelathi on Jun 26, 2019 22:20:44 GMT
Brynja’s eyes narrowed as Soren towered above her, and his words only raised more questions. Her kind? Whilst she had been doubtful on his claim as a descendent of Fenrir, she had accepted that he must have some kind of magical ability, the only explanation for the odd occurrence with the ropes and the masts during their daring escape at the docks. But to not consider himself part of humankind… what exactly did he claim to be, instead? And what did he mean, it wouldn’t be the first time? Clearly, Soren had a lot of issues with people, and Brynja was no exception. True, she had floored him the first time they’d met, and threatened him on more than one occasion… but each time she’d bite it was always in response to his attempts to push her buttons. She’d also saved his life and patched him up, but that didn’t seem to make much of a difference in terms of Soren trusting that she didn’t have some convoluted plan to betray him.
She lengthened her stride until they were walking besides each other again. “I have no intention nor reason to let those hunters find you. But if you are so concerned, then just leave! I have no hold over you; you’re the one choosing to regard yourself as indebted to… ugh!” The grunt of pain had been punctuated by a halt in her step, and she pressed her arm flush against her injury, the pressure seeming to offer her a little relief. Now the adrenalin had worn off, it seemed it was finally voicing its complaints against their little tumble in the snow. Straightening, face sour and now completely in a foul mood, both at Soren and at herself for what she considered to be a show of weakness, she fixed him once more with her steely gaze. “Tell me why it’s so important for you to settle this perceived debt. Why does it matter so much to you?”
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jun 27, 2019 2:16:01 GMT
Now it was Soren’s turn to wish Brynja would drop the subject, inwardly cursing at letting her get to him. As much as he talked, he hated to let anything about himself slip out, his heritage, his family… his rationale for behavior. Much easier to keep all at a distance.
It didn’t take long for Brynja to catch up to his stride and begin challenging him again, her words causing his eyes to roll. Had no intention… as if she’d admit such intentions! At first, he thought her grunt was one of disgust and confusion, but he paused not a heartbeat after her step faltered, his eyes softening a little as she recovered from the apparent pain. This softness was notable as his gaze hardened at her question, lip curling as he looked away, not wanting to answer.
As his eyes finally caved to looking down at her side again, he sighed, a noise that ended up rough with a growl. “Because it’s what my mother would have done,” he finally answered, softly, before turning and walking on again. Not once did he meet Brynja’s eyes as he spoke of his past, only emphasizing the difficulty in which he had spoken the words.
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Post by Kelathi on Jul 1, 2019 20:34:40 GMT
Brynja merely blinked at Soren’s reply, clearly surprised to hear such a sincere response. As he turned and continued to try to stalk away, she let him do so, this time. After a moment she began to follow, but she lagged a little behind, mulling over his words. Brynja had casually asked him about his family before, and Soren had been evasive. His mother must no longer be around, and yet, she evidently still played a rather prominent part in his life. This time, she knew better than to press further, so as she finally caught up to his stride, they travelled from then on pretty much in silence.
Although, she fully intended to pursue this topic more at a later date. She felt like there was a lot that Soren was not willing to discuss…
**
Brynja was hungry. But not as hungry as Soren, a notion he never seemed to tire of reminding her. She’d put up with his constant complaining for hours, but they had yet to come across a settlement and were no closer to eating a decent meal. Brynja could go a while without food, she’d had to many times in the past, and so could have waited longer. If it was up to her, she would have saved the day for travelling, she still had plenty of energy reserves left even with her injury, and waited till evening to set up camp and the snares. But with Soren constantly in her ear, that wasn’t going to be possible, because she didn’t think she could take another moment of his constant abrasive nagging. Eventually, it was clear she had had enough.
“Right! That’s it!” She exclaimed suddenly, halting and throwing her arms up into the air with a sigh of exasperation. Turning on Soren, she motioned to the vast expanse of wilderness. “For the love of Thor, just go. Get something to eat. I’ll set up a fire.” And with that, she spun on her heel, and began to gather firewood. She didn’t offer a weapon, as he had managed before, nor any opening for him to argue. Not, of course, that she expected him to, for after all, wasn’t this what he had wanted?
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jul 1, 2019 21:32:02 GMT
Soren had expected some sort of retort, but was almost pleasantly surprised that there was none. Brynja finally allowed silence to dominate their travels.. at least until his stomach began to ache with hunger, unsatisfied now for over a week.
He was actually surprised when his complaining worked, the woman finally exploding at him in an overly theatrical manner, he thought. His eyes went wide but his lips remained in a sulk, watching her collecting firewood and doing… exactly as she said. But there was no stream nearby… but there was…
Should he risk it? Could he risk it? One deep breath to help him decide made the decision for him. Yes, yes he could risk it. He could figure out what to do if she saw him later. With an arrogant look of satisfaction, he unclasped the cloak and let it fall near where Brynja had settled, turning on his heel and walking off with only his dagger. What food he expected to bring back was unclear, but his stride was filled with purpose.
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It hadn’t taken him long after Brynja was lost from sight for him to make the change, now leaping past the trees with effortless speed, his nose guiding him towards his prey. A family of deer, nibbling at the dried remains of grass and leaves through the snowy mud. He had already checked for signs of the crow-pin hunter, and he knew he was the only predator in the area.
Keeping his growl in check, stomach tight with need, he slowly paced around the group, ears flicking as he’d check for the wind, making sure he stayed downwind of the herd. Each pace was slow, certain, silent. Barely an ear flicked towards him as he positioned himself. Then, with a breathless pause… he lunged.
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It had been several hours by the time Soren came trudging back into the small camp that Brynja had made, and only a small portion of that time was his dragging the buck behind him. But this seemed to take an eternity in comparison, grunting with the effort of hauling the large animal along.
Finally, he managed to get it to the fire, dropping the legs with a huff, once more inwardly cursing his human weakness. The deer had been nothing in his jaws before, but now… bah! “There,” he sneered even as he fought to catch his breath again, “THAT is a decent meal.”
The buck was an impressive one, with great antlers showing age and strength. But what seemed the most curious was how the neck was broken, with gaping holes that didn’t match the spotless dagger at Soren’s waist, almost ripping the deer’s neck to shreds.
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Post by Kelathi on Jul 14, 2019 20:14:28 GMT
She had left Soren’s cloak exactly where he had let it drop, refusing to do anymore than was absolutely necessary to aid him. With his absence, Brynja relaxed- as much as she could considering their circumstances, anyway. Fire built, she kicked away a drift of snow and sat on the cold ground, back leaning up against the gnarled wood of an aged tree. She folded her arms beneath the comforting wrap of furs, leaned back and half-closed her eyes, settling and listening to the sounds about her as she dozed.
She awoke with a start, heart pounding and breath coming out in bursts of white clouds. It took her a moment to take in her surroundings, the memories slipping back steadily, and she pulled herself up abruptly. Shaking off the thin layer of snow that had settled upon her whilst in sleep, she did so with an energy that suggested she was also trying to shake off something else. She could see that, thankfully, the fire was still burning, but Soren was nowhere to be seen. Her gaze fell on his cloak, and without thought, she pulled it up, shaking it free of snow, and draping it distractedly over a low branch to dry. Scavenger. Trophies. She paused, the memory of the dream coming back in flashes, her gaze unseeing even as she stared out at the landscape. Crows feed on corpses and this one takes away trophies. Hrókr. The name sent a sudden shiver through her, finally understanding Soren's fear. The name held power. It was the name of the man with the silver crow-pin.
A strange sound, then. The crunch of footsteps, but tinged with something else, like the sound of something dragging through the snow. She looked towards the direction of the sound, hand on her hatchet… but relaxed as she saw that it was Soren. Except it wasn’t just Soren.
Brynja’s eyes widened at the huge bulk the man was dragging, and it took her a moment to identify exactly what the beast was. The antlers were of course, a dead giveaway, but she’d never seen a stag so large, so majestic. Her mind worked rapidly. How had Soren taken it down with just a knife? Her question was soon answered, however, as her gaze fell on the neck of the animal, which looked as if it had been torn through by some beast. Brynja had seen such fatal injuries before, mostly on the necks of sheep, but also once in the flesh of a human.
“Impressive.” She spoke, her voice flat and sounding anything but. “I’d be sure to thank the wolf for it’s assistance, if I were you.” She added, curtly. For this had definitely been the work of a wolf- she would bet her weapons on it. Why such a beast had left it’s kill behind was a mystery to her, but such a beast it must have been.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jul 14, 2019 23:06:49 GMT
Brynja was very good at getting under Soren’s skin.
He visibly bristled at her insinuation, eyes wide and fuming. “What you I killed it you bloody stupid cow,” he sputtered, the deep reverberation in his throat coming out stronger than it had for a while. It was only remembering that he didn’t want to bother chasing her down to save her sorry ass later that kept him from proving his point rather dramatically, or letting the continuing growl surface.
“I’m descended from Fenrir, remember?” he reminded her sharply, looking about the snow for his discarded cloak. He was ready to angrily shake the snow from it, but paused at finally finding it hanging from a branch. Not where he had left it. Seeing it was damp, he simply left it there to finish drying and moved back to the deer, hauling on the antlers to bring it closer to the fire.
Again, his demeanor was at odds with his lack of strength, able to haul the animal but not without effort. But he took out his knife, and began working on cutting apart the animal. Brynja at least proved somewhat useful in getting the meat cooking, but ironically it wasn’t anything he said that seemed to startle her into some much needed silence.
While there had been plenty of food there for two humans for several days, there was little more than carefully cleaned bones and fur left by the time Soren finally leaned back with a contented sigh, taking a deep breath. He had made sure Brynja had had more than enough made available to her - couldn’t let her starve to death before he saved her life - but finally, at last, he was full. Really, truly full. Even his normally sour mood was lightened by this fact, licking his lips almost sleepily as he gazed into the fire, still somewhat ignoring his companion but at least not attempting to raise her hackles in turn.
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