Seeking Aid

VALKYRIE She stood in the storm The idea hit the crafty Shieldmaiden with force, a shudder literally emanating from the startled heartbeat, pouring outwards through her core. There was a moment that she recalled, between the return of Hope and the point of realisation that the divine chandelier was nothing but a wolf in sheep’s attire; the moment, when the raging river of Blood Falls had eased and the queer vision of the bear god had melded back into the ether. All present had been left a reward of sorts, for their labour, some far more valuable than others… Valkyrie had been given a useless, ugly charm which resembled something like a waterfall—a gift which she’d promptly pressed into the mud beneath her hoof—however, the little urchin’s charm oozed fog, delightful, obscuring red fog. The effect was not continuous, only adding to the appeal, it seemed only to emanate and shroud the scrawny wearer when another aimed to touch her. Valkyrie had, of course, momentarily aimed her lips towards it (even to thieve it), but Eira had vanished more or less beneath its magnificent shield. Jealous, the winged-mare had desired it terribly. “Alright…” Valkyrie drawled slowly, pushing the sudden tension from her frame as her consciousness returned to the present. “Yes, there is a little something. Now that you mention it…” She feared the other’s disapproval and so spoke not of the logistics—who, where, what—falling instead into a heavily brooding silence quickly after. The white woman could only imagine the convenience of cloaking fog during battle; vanishing as the enemy descended to assault. There was also a flame-wielding spear that she'd seen many months later... and when the wind did not blow her way, she adjusted her sails.

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