Fox's Glade a poem in which i am neither a monster nor a martyr

Wardruna is contented by what he smells …or perhaps what he doesn’t smell and thus ceases to invade her personal space. He draws back and circles around her with a decisive slowness, giving her a once over. She is no worse for wear than Noma was ( ok, perhaps, a little bit more worse for wear ) but she does not appear as if she’s going to keel over at any given second and that’s a bonus to the northerner. So, he looks to the proverbial chessboard, wondering how he should make his approach: straightforward or subtle and whether consent is important to him or not. Noma had, in a way, consented: by way of their deal. He really doesn’t need it, per say, but it would certainly make it easier because he’s not trying to get him and his woman (women, maybe?) kicked from Easthollow. Yet, how to construct this without raising already beginning suspicions. One woman was not quite so suspecting. But a second ( and of a similar condition, no less ).

As Wardruna contemplates it all he draws in as he moves around the other side of her, brushing the length of his body against her’s, presenting a tease of bodily warmth. “I have chosen you,” The northerner begins to explain. “you who look like my goddess of death.” Wardruna nearly purls, choosing his words and translating them as artfully as he can ( though perhaps the language barrier tends to get in the way of the ‘art’ part of that ). “I have chosen you to be one of my thralls.” He explains, though like with Noma he decides to use the …kinder word for what a thrall truly is. “My home is not far. Come with me. I will take care of you.” In whatever capacity she wanted and/or needed it. Wardruna’s tone is imploring but it implies that there isn’t room for negotiation besides. He’s fixated upon her and if she does not come willingly then he will hunt her down, just as he grimly promised Noma …because Wardruna’s been denied too much in his ( short ) life and he’d sooner be damned to the underworld than be denied anything else. The Gods have brought her to him and he will not waste the gift they’ve presented.