Revival [Aesir claiming/founding] Mar 6, 2016 16:27:08 GMT -5
Post by Valdís on Mar 6, 2016 16:27:08 GMT -5
“Our teeth and ambitions are bared,
It began again on Anikira’s east coast, on the island that first welcomed her scarred, exhausted body back from its three-year voyage to Africa. It had been an easy choice, to reform her pack, one that she had subconsciously made as soon as emerged, dripping and half broken, from the ocean that morning. It felt as though no time at all had passed since then, likely because she had not rested once. After arriving she had almost immediately set out to find lost members of her pack, first meeting Baard, and then the strange twins, Heimdall and Hel, venturing deeper into Anikira in search of lost kin. But so far, they were the only three who had made it, or at least the only ones she had found.
After meeting Heimdall and Hel, she had asked them to linger a short while longer in case they happened upon any more of their pack mates, but to re-join her on Miera as soon as they were able. Valdís trusted they would carry out her order, and hoped they would arrive safely with anyone they happened across. No sooner had she met in that frosty wasteland, she was already beginning on her way back to the eastern island, stopping neither to rest nor eat. Her body was growing weary, running on fumes, but she would not, could not, rest until she had created a sanctuary for the pack to reside in. A large part of her felt as though it was her duty to be searching for survivors alongside the twins, but she knew it was equally crucial to claim a new home, so that the three survivors had someone to rest, and any more she found would have somewhere to gather.
Valdís emerged from the water sodden but undeterred, her determination renewed by her brief trip to Cryothia. As she dragged herself from the grip of the ocean’s strong tides, a snarl ripped from her throat, teeth bared in opposition to the world. Her imposing form lumbered up the beach, her tired, bloodshot eyes gave the impression of a half-mad barbarian, though the title was fairly apt. The craggy island was bathed in the last of the day’s dying light, the evening sun sinking far to the west. It would hardly have mattered if she’d stopped, rested, and gathered the pack tomorrow morning, but she could not settle until a state of normalcy had been returned. The surface of the water glistened orange and red, reflecting the blood-coloured sunset above, casting the world in a hellish glow. Alone, Valdís travelled along the beach, a stoic monolith moving south, to a more central location. The waves beat ceaselessly against the endless expanse of rock that lined the island, spurring her on like a brutal crack of whip, salt water painting her coat with each swell of the tide.
The more time she spent on the severe island, the more it grew on her. It would be a hard life, but a pack such as Aesir would only thrive under more demanding conditions, and would push them to be even more stronger, even more resilient. Dampness seemed to seep into her coat, into her skin, and settle itself at her very core; the landscape was brittle and coarse, and there was no plant life and as a result, little prey. It would be no cushy existence, but she would prefer that to her pack growing lazy and comfortable, growing fat on the lush expanse of meadow that Caurus had to offer. Here they would be protected, too, and free – not caged in, surrounded on all sides by packs.
With a deep inhalation of stinging sea air, Valdís halted. She had reached the point of the island closest to Anikira, the two joined only by a precarious, partially sub-merged path of rocks, which crossed the most dangerous, tumultuous waters surrounding Miera. It was here that she would rally her fellow survivors to her. Lifting her maw to face to the bruised sky, she howled, her voice as demanding and enduring as she was, and called her family back to her.
Word count: 695
Notes: Aesir lives! If we haven't threaded yet, feel free to have your wolf arrive with Heim and Hel (:
Tags: Baard Heimdall Hel Runa Ingrid Saga Jotun