» the calm before the storm

VALKYRIE She stood in the storm Note: permission to power play Eira/her charm Still heavily cloaked in the river’s tarry residue and none the closer to providing the onward-toiling crowd with a less troublesome plan of action (her thoughts had been consumed, rather, in cleansing her pretty, pale hide), Valkyrie was stunned to find herself standing a good while later in the deepening shade of late afternoon. She surveyed the work with a vain eye—her own, of course—and was disgruntled to discover that she’d achieved nothing more than working the filthy, staining substance deeper into the pallid fibres of her coat; and her nose was soiled now too! Aggrieved by the situation her eyes flounced from the unshakable covering, finding, in turn, the dam of rocks which seemed now large enough to corral the wild rapids and filter its violent course towards the South. The fools had indeed worked hard, and still, Valkyrie noted, they continued, carting one rock and then the next to block the water. Paper-thin nostrils fluttered tiredly and she fastened her jaws around the emergence of a yawn. Really, she had far better things to do than fight the elements and invest intelligence into such idiotic endeavours—it was as bad as the tree… “I’m— Her voice broke, eyes broadening suddenly around sight of the storm failing. All at once the river began to slow, thin and, a small time later, still. It eased back into the course it had always followed and the waterfall beneath the reemerging god (who looked like a bear?), seemed to foam and froth with less vehemence. It worked, she muttered softly, hardly willing to offer them the benefit of the realisation—though the evidence was plain and clear. A voice tumbled down from the top of the waterfall and a rather smug smile ignited through her expression. “Of course, you all would have drowned had I not been so willing to sacrifice myself,” she murmured boldly, accepting their gratitude whether they sought to offer it or not. Adornments began to appear upon them as the voice and its owner above soon after vanished, though Valkyrie was less than impressed to find a trinket that looked like the falling water before her, nestled above the black on her chest. Curiously, she scanned the gifts that others had received—many as useless as her own, all seemed to have the bear and waterfall theme—but only one particularly sparked her interest. Bright blue eyes hastened towards the same-coloured crystal gaze which beamed by the breast of the worthless welp, Eira. Before she knew it, Valkyrie’s lips were gliding forward, her mind intrigued by the variance, until, at the last moment before contact, the charm began to billow and cloak its owner in smoke. The Shieldmaiden withdrew instantly, startled, her greedy heart swollen with fascination—she wanted that necklace, not the morning one that seemed to have no capacity greater than flapping against her skin… In a second, while all other eyes appeared diverted (not that it would have mattered should they see), the waterfall was torn from her neck and cast into the mud at her hooves; the nearest lifted quietly and placed the weight of ungratefulness down across it before she turned a final glance toward’s the charm she so coveted. Valkyrie said nothing more, stepping from the shoreline and retreating into the tree line from whence she’d originally come. and when the wind did not blow her way, she adjusted her sails.

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