@ceceliestclair
A bit of blood-sport was just what she needed to get the blood pumping, to take her mind off the curse that hung as an albatross around her neck. Though her connections to Demeter were slim -- far closer would she align herself to Below -- still she was expected to perform a feminine duty. Disgusting. But to the fighters: there was something animalistic, primal, to the way the victor had fought -- enough that a more impulsive godling might’ve sent off to pick a fight of her own. For Velia’s part, though, she was contented enough to watch the rest of the matches over a drink. Wine, thanks. No mead here. Leave it to the Norse.












