The darkness was thick and suffocating, slipping into all of her orifices and flooding her system, hostile tendrils holding her astral form prisoner within herself. Hrafn feels as if she has been encased within it for too long, struggling against that horrendous monster she had been forced to become, astral muscles straining against the evil holding her. Slender fingers grasp into the shade of the void wishing, wanting to find grip on anything to pull her from its torrid tar that held her. She continues to thrash about in the web, hearing herself speak, or perhaps spit her words of venom at him and she wants to cry out, to take it back but it’s too late. The damage is done and she cannot claw the words back.
Her memory is hazy, numb and deaf to what is happening around her outer self. But she can see it in the distance, through the muck clasped over her eyes she can see it; the small white light glowing in the distance out of her reach. She feels her external self moving, a series of hacking, hurtful movements and she dreads to find out what she has done. What it has done with her body. The Valkyrie tries to spit the poison from her palette but the bitter ooze merely clings to her tongue and fills her mouth as she fights. She feels helpless, bound within herself so strictly; gagged and blind in blackness, the only person she can think to call out to is him and he cannot hear her.
After that however, Hrafn only remembers falling on clipped wings. As the evil pestilence of her Ragnarok form leaves her, the full brunt of the pain slices at her core and she can no longer focus upon any one thing. She’s so broken and notably once more blind, previously all seeing eyes again revoked from her now she is back to her original form. Her hands scrabble at the ground, she doesn’t know where she is but her limbs are carrying her somewhere without conscious thought. And then she’s home, or well, his home, his place; safe. Somehow she scales the outside wall of the building, dragging a trail of slick obsidian up the rendered surface until she reached one of his windows. Her breathing is ragged and fogs against the glass, creating a grimy cloud as she attempts to open the frame.
After a short while there is a loud crash and the Valkyrie hauls herself through a mess of broken glass and wood splinters, some of which manages to lodge in her already damaged skin. She’s in the bathroom, upon breaking through the window she fell into the bath tub and laid twitching, heart racing so fast that it pains her. Hrafn slides awkwardly about on the pristine surface, blood and ebony oil making her flail weakly about as she attempts to get to the shower. She’s making such a ruckus, nails scratching the edge as she falls to the floor and knees thumping against the tiles.
It is as if the abyss is still clawing at her shoulders as she enters the shower and turns on the water. Hrafn wonders how the god is fairing, he was far more immersed in that shadow than she was. Her mind races, what if…No, he would be fine and she refused to believe otherwise. He’d turn up sooner or later to berate her and tell her how annoying she was and look charming as he always did and everything would go back to normal. It takes her a moment to realise the water is hot, she hasn’t turned the cold tap and it’s scolding her fragile body but there is so much pain that it doesn't bother her as much as it should.
As she lays sprawled upon the shower floor, slime and blood coats all the surrounding surfaces and clogs the drain as it washes from her. Her hand fumbles for the other tap but only manages to bang about dumbly so she gives up, drawing her knees to her chest and sitting under the running water. The large wounds where the bone had pierced her flesh to form armour were gaping under the rushing heat of the water, steam burning her unseeing eyes. Hrafn’s whole body trembles but she cannot move. The truth of the matter is, her body isn’t supposed to be able to survive transforming back once her Ragnarok form has been activated. Ragnarok meant the end. It’s at that moment that her body gives out and she’s left slumped unconscious under the scolding stream, limp shattered wings and nothing but a shell of her former self.
