‘ YOU KNOW this is pretty sad compared to the festivals back home. ’ the teasing insult is accompanied by a smile. she wraps her palla around herself tighter as they stroll through the streets. her vanir clothes are not meant for this, for the cool summer nights in the north, and the streets full but not packed enough to gain warmth from the press of people. no, it is nothing like home, but then, they do not have the sight of dying sunlight giving way to a blue expanse of stars so late at night. the sight only interrupted by the twinkling of lights strewn across the booths above the road.
and it is late, the festival has gone on for hours, the tourists have seemed to mostly begun their trek back to hotels, and the locals remain. drinking, laughing, singing what she is certain was a bawdy song a few booths back. she loves it, secretly, just as secretly as she has stolen glances at him in his traditional clothing. bumping her shoulder into him she looks down at her feet, ‘ maybe someday you’ll-- ’
‘ KÅRESON! ’ the voice, loud, and impossibly close, rings in her ear and she turns with confusion written into her features. he is drunk, she can tell that before the stench of alcohol ever even reaches her nose. his steps are heavy, though not entirely unsteady, as he makes his way forward, large hand grabbing onto haraldr beside her, an attempt to jerk him forward. ‘ bastard. ’ he spits the insult in the same way he spits upon the ground at their feet. ‘ how dare you-- ’
all eyes are on them, a fact of which torvi is painfully aware. normally such attentions would be welcomed, seemingly ignored with the air of superiority that accompanies her every step, but now? now they are accompanied by an uneasiness that settles in her spine. she reaches out to separate them, ‘ surely this can be solved in some...other manner. ’
‘ you! you stay out of this. ’ he wrenches his arm away from her grasp, before turning back to haraldr. ‘ he can fight his battles, isn’t that right kåreson? hm? ’ he raises his brows, ‘ he must be able to if he can walk around town with his vanir hóra and rub my sister’s nose it it! ’ he leans in closer, disgusted sneer turned into cruel smirk, ‘ just like her mother isn’t she? my father’s told me all about her, and you, abandon a good woman for this. when she leaves you’ll be at our door again you worthless-- ’
@vegvisr / / semi-plotted starter
