[SWP] ... Are You Ready For It?

Ever the perceptive and in tune sort (selfish, and shallow as well), Valkyrie had been listening with growing curiosity to conversations that she really had no right to; like this, she had taken an interest in a rumour about a tree who - as she naively understood - uprooted randomly, lifted its leafy skirt and strolled through the forests of this wildly enchanted underworld entirely on its own accord. She could hardly imagine such a  proposterous thing (trees were dense after all), though, after the queer chain of adventures she’d experienced thus far in the Rift, she was a little more inclined to believe what she’d heard. It intrigued her no end. For this reason, she pursued the concept, crawling a path through the stagnant humidity of the old forest of giant trees and back in the direction she felt sure that the Portal should lie. Wads of old, matted creamy hair wedged in the grooves of lifting bark as she skimmed by identical haggard trunks (she was moulting that thick cosy coat, thank the Shield), and withered brown leaves, mere skeletons of the emerald sun-suckers they’d been in their prime, tangled into untidy knots as her over-length, ivory tail dragged along the littered forest floor. For the moment she seemed oblivious, striding with bold resolution, riding the wave of attraction like a swallow in a breeze. A good few hours later, when soil-stained hooves did finally fall upon the skirt of the rainforest, she paused hesitantly, for the field of lurking shadow and eyes, spread out before her like the pearly white smile of a crocodile. “Don’t be daft,” she laughed, scolding herself bitterly, and recalling the countless times she’d wavered on a knife's edge, one slip away from plunging down a mountainside to her death; and that was for fun! “You are a Shieldmaiden, baulking here before the intangible; frightened of ghosts…” Valkyrie had overcome a great many dangers already, and a dauntless sense pride giddied her gut. Long, swinging strides carried her down into the neon brights of the jungle around the portal. With keen blue eyes peeled and prepared for the unexpected (which was everything), the pale horse began to search for the thing called the Living Tree. It was just unfortunate, that before she stumbled upon the tree, the man who had slathered her weeks prior in saliva appeared… He was with the horse (one of two), whom she’d followed out to sea. She addressed them both with a smile, to begin with, and then, as had become somewhat of an uncouth habit, swerved an oh so subtle glimpse by both of their undercarriages. Those deformities were delightfully hideous. She still imagined Vynter’s would indeed make a fine trophy for the High-Maiden - but she was simply to busy today… “Afternoon…” she greeted politely, unnecessarily so given they were both man. There was a calculated need for information on this occasion, and Valkyrie figured that they might withhold should she show them any less regard. “Is there something you are trying to find?”