starter call @vredeir
standing idle, in a realm far different than infernal heat, she’s quietly behind a tree watching a young man strike down men with shields in brute force. if she’s not careful with the fire burning within, this ‘safe’ distance will reveal with snow melting fast; so nerves begin to calm, breathing comes easier with each passing moment. green eyes lose their enraged colour of emblazoned will, flesh repairs the cracks that dare to unleash that muspel rage. the magick bestowed unto this woman slows to a dull roar, but still all eyes are on him.
snow was the first thing she saw coming out the gates that tyr hid so well for so many lifetimes; cold this was the first time she felt cold. ( so this must be midgard, where the warriors pray for valhalla. ) inner voices boom within her head, but is distracted by the scream of a raven. the woman is thrown off, loses that self tempered emotion and sends fire towards the bird that is so well known to be the eyes of odin. the raven was the third object witnessed on this would be realm of mortals.
her heart stops once they notice her, once he notices her. any steps towards her direction increases the strength of her pulse, beating like war drums with instincts to fight. “ Don’t come any closer, I’m warning you. ” this grip on the tree used for protection, now has markings of embers burning into the bark.












