What began as pure fear, progressed slowly and steadily into a much less humble state of disbelief.
The tree collapsed to the earth with unforeseeable grace and technique, so near to the small urchin-child, that Valkyrie assumed she were about to be (gently?) squashed; snuffed, probably for the better, from worthless existence that appeared more a curse, than anything finer. But the child lived on, with the strange creature’s twigs intertwined through her fine hair and the Shieldmaiden’s incredulous eyes narrowed beyond pity. In a tender moment in which the ragged youth looked to be at one with nature - how quaint - the weather took on a mind of its own, and harassed the surrounding forest with formidable furore.
Put off by the lashing wind and biting rain, Valkyrie sought shelter in a dense grove overlooking the thin glade.
Still, she felt some obligation to watch over the sickly filly (be present should something worth her while unfold in the meantime), and lingered while the smaller began to labour over the finally dead tree’s innards; whatever reason compelled the young savage to dissect it was well and truly beyond her capacity to understand. At last the Daughter grew tired, bored, and turned to leave the child to her crude game. The moment’s respite in the weather was over and as the rain began once more to pour, Valkyrie made an exit through the trees.
Rainforest Cliffs
