@severass-snape cont. from here
Ren. It was a name and it looked like it fit him; but it also looked like it didn’t. He looked cold. That was expected, and one of the reasons she had approached him in the first place. This moon was a place of sanctuary for her; there were no battles there, no warriors beyond herself, no lives that needed to be carried to Valhalla. That was - until he had crashed.
Brunnhilde was not bothered by the chill. She was Aesir, after all. The All-Father had been made of fire and ice, and he had shaped worlds of it. His people - and his Valkyrie - were no different.
She was also dressed in appropriate attire, in fabrics made to keep the wind out and secure warmth within. Her cheeks remained coloured, her hair bound in a low braid to keep it from whipping about in the wind. Still, some strands came loose. Brunnhilde brushed them away, about to answer his first question when he turned and asked to be left alone.
Again, her smile remained. She watched as he struck a tree, its trunk wavering for a moment, its branches dropping snow. He was fire and ice too, it seemed. Stubborn and fierce all at once.
“I was going to ask you the same thing - about ending up here - but now you’re walking away,” Brunnhilde called out, noting how accented her voice seemed against his. Or, was it his voice that was accented on hers?
“I keep a cabin on this moon. You have interrupted my solitude with your... crashing and potential death.” Brunnhilde kept her distance, not making a move to follow. It was my day off and, in all honesty, she did not wish to carry anyone to Valhalla. He was obviously a warrior, and he held a weapon. If you died, she would have to offer him an afterlife and take him there.
She took a few steps after Ren, then paused. Her smile faded. He wanted to be left alone. Fine. If he did not realize who or what she was, then that was on him. If he did not ask for help, that was on him too. Brunnhilde unfurled her wings once more. “But, if you wish to be left alone - then you shall be left alone.”
She watched him for a moment longer. Ren. Hmm. Part of her would be sad to see his life snuffed out in this way; freezing to death on some far-off moon. He had a long shadow, and no doubt a lot of responsibility. A general too, perhaps. Maybe something more supreme.
Alas, even kings die. Even Odin would fall at Ragnarok.
The Valkyrie left Ren, her wings stirring the snow and ice as the storm overhead began to arrive, her thunder being replaced by the rough-hewn edges of this moon. It was a beautiful and savage place. Its moods and hers felt like twins.
If he died, if he was close to it; she would know. Until then - she was not going to stand in the storm.
