Neverwinter Forest hideout

beneath the winter stars she called @Rokkur to her.

she knew the man held faith, she knew he was a steadfast presence. there were things they could discuss among one another that she might have only once talked to her seer with.

it was good to keep no strangers among them.

let them all bind together.

she laid out bones and awaited his arrival.

aaa thank you for this!! <3

trade: spiritualist

he was called forwards by seiðkona ; his reputation steadfastness was true to him, as he was swift to rise from his den by the mánilundur, navigating the neverwinter to find her. he took note of the bones once crimson eyes finally settled upon her.

rökkur sat a few ways in front of her, dipping his head in polite greeting. hello, seiðkona, he said. you called for me? and he believed, or moreso hoped, that they would discuss their typical conversation pieces. always pleasant, always accepted.

<3

look upon these, sögumaðr.

her voice deep with thoughtfulness. eyes fixed upon the soft stone-chiseled features he held.

one tusk of a boar, the femur and teeth of a deer. scattered in a small clearing.

she wished now to see how his mind worked.

she said no other thing. only watchful, only listening.

trade: spiritualist

—one of these is not like the others. was his first response. gentle paws moved both deer-originated bones away from the boar tusk, nodding to them.

but then he was moving them again. however, these are both teeth. and then it was the deer tooth and the boar tusk next to one another, with the femur a little further away.

bringing the femur back to the pair, his gaze returned to callyope. but despite their differences ... their shape, or what animal they came from ... they are all bones.

the gods think of us in the same way, don't you agree?

she held her silence.

amber gaze watched him shift him, ginger ears shifted with the vibrations of his voice. he was not to be in her circle but she trusted his voice now. she understood the things he saw.

your words are deep. she uttered in hushed voice, she was genuine in tone.

her gaze was only upon the bones he had shifted.

are there whispers of unity in your ears, sögumaðr? bodies in forneskja come from different places, like these bones, but they must all be of one now.

winter would demand it of them.

trade: spiritualist

an appreciation of his philosophy was always accepted. her eyes lingered on the bones, and he grew curious as to what she would make of them. did she see something different? if so, what was it? she redirected the conversation, then, and he remained quiet. merely attentive, listening to her words ; she spoke of forneskja.

yes, he replied, his voice similarly low, as if they were only speaking to the bones themselves. all those who gather within these woods, they are all unique. all different, in both their past and their present. but i believe our future will be that of one. a community in which we work in sync with each other.

and again, his eyes would flit to hers. do you see something different, seiðkona? curious, almost weary. he wondered if the máni would show them benevolence during the winter, or if this was a year of tests, of trials ; hardships, losses.

he spoke of a hopeful thing. something to warm them through the cold times.

no, she spoke her own mind now. only now did she reveal thinking to him. i must hear these things in the voices of others. i must know it is not only hope that makes me see these things. she did not wish to be childish, to ignore any strife in favor of rose-colored days.

in the bones i see strength. i see bounties and thriving. she confessed to him and yet her voice continued to become a hushed thing. nearly a whisper now. my visions for forneskja run wild.

they would always stay visions, though, if no others could grasp them.

sögumaðr gave her hope that this thinking was not only her own.

it is not only your hope ; forneskja is strong, and we will continue to grow, he agreed. we, as a people, must pull through the winter. spring will bring your bounties, and forneskja will thrive. spring may also bring children, should any forneskjan's be so keen. though, from those he knew, he was not so sure.

but perhaps it is something he should ask about: do you believe any of your women will birth children? the guardian asked. it is with the next generation that forneskja will find its strength, it's purpose. to pass on the tales of those who built it onto those who will inherit it. a curious tone laced his voice, then.

her bounties, forneskja thriving.

she clung onto his words now like a child's favored belonging. she would whisper these things into the bones after they parted.

what she had not expected was his questioning of children!

she thought it might go without saying that she hoped for many of her own. as many as body and home could handle! how flushing a thought. set aside in favor of perhaps gleaming his own interests now.

do you have eyes for a wife, sögumaðr?

he was a man of stable age, one with comfortable rank. his hearth might provide much to any who would wed him.

she did not shy away from his red gaze now.

he chuckled, then, at callyope's words. perhaps it was the idea of a wife that he found funny, or the idea of him courting a woman at all ; or maybe him having his own children. he was not so sure about that, though perhaps his mind would be changed.

unless one determines me a worthy husband, then i do not believe so, he hummed, then, thinking of the forneskjan women. they were admirable, yes, each with their own qualities and such, but he did not find any of them particularly captivating. i do not find myself all too interested in women at all. a shrug of dark shoulders, unbothered.

a thought, though: however, should a paring struggle to concieve, i would be happy to surrogate, if it means they will have the children they wish for. he did not find himself particularly opposed to the idea of having his own, just that he would first have to meet a woman that truly changed his world. perhaps that was too high an expectation.

blood met flames, then. two gazes interlocking. do you and the hárkonungr plan to have children? he hummed. perhaps they would be the only pair to do so, he was not yet aware of any other mates within the pack. i apologise if that is ... invasive.

perhaps a husband!

yet she uttered no such thing out loud. if he wished to welcome anyone into his bed, such was his decision to make. she only wished to help forge these bonds where she could.

he offered himself, too, as a surrogate. she was...she did not know! such a thing had not crossed her before, she thought. however she wondered if this might be a way to bind them among many villages. a man of choice helping bring forth families?

all of these things held very, very close. the weight of them was immense and she felt as if she toed upon ice now.

she welcomed his own boldness. she could not hide the smile that cracked against a face which had once been thoughtful.

many, she told him now. perhaps it was unbecoming but she held no wish to hide how she adored her beloved so much! that she did indeed look forward to a bustling home with tiny bodies!

but keep your eyes upon faces in the winter. she would not let him escape so easily. you have your health, you have status among forneskja. it is not if you are a worthy husband.

only a matter of who he intertwined with.

she thought of walking among other villages now, so that she too might keep her eyes upon potential faces.

trade: spiritualist

her face was the first give away before she had even answered his question that she clearly planned on becoming a mother. and rökkur thought that she would make a fine mother, too. many, she had said. the faith-man could envision it already. little snow-and-fire puppies running around the neverwinter. he nodded, then.

i wish you health, seiðkona. and she would be in his prayers, though he would not say it aloud as to not diminish the holiness of such an action. to experience a positive pregnancy and to enjoy motherhood was all that he could ask máni for when it came to callyope's experience. the rest would be provided for by forneskja.

and he considered, then, what his type would be, should he have to choose. if i had a perfect wife, he began, thinking, a hum lacing his voice. she would have to have the same affection for the moon as i do ; similar beliefs at the very least. and i quite like a woman that will bathe with me. a personal enjoyment of his.

if i have my health and my rank, then i wish for her to have health and rank, as well. that is not too high of an expectation, right? curious, then. religious, cleanly and to match his strength and his place. someone that he was similar to. though he liked the snarky flame that some women held onto. he hummed.

he shared!

she paid him her full respect and attention. ears tall as if she fretted over missing a single word he might speak. she wondered if he meant to place the job of matchmaking upon her shoulders, yet she found herself eager for it all the same.

no wonder her mother had done such for so long!

perfect did not exist, she did not think. however she felt compelled to search for a face who might hold all of these things — or wish to lean into them.

no, she meant to encourage him now with a softer smile. a heart has desire. yours is not too high for a man of your status.

she paused, gaze drifted to the bones before it fluttered back to him.

thank you for trusting me with this. raw, genuine. she saw much to learn and admire in him now. she wished to find another face who would do the same for him.

he nodded, then, assured. and she thanked him for trusting him with ... what, his preferences in women? the man chuckled, then. of course, callyope. i don't see why i would refrain from telling you. a smile grew upon his face.

nudging his paw towards the bones, he took on a more serious tone ; somewhat quieter. is there anything further you would wish to discuss, sögumaðr to seiðkona? rökkur looked down at the ivory shards. then back up to eyes of amber.

a smile.

a soft shake of her head.

i have kept you long enough. go, walk the starlight.

and she would linger here. among bones, among earth.

fade? <3

yes maam!

thank you, seiðkona.

and with a polite dip of his head, he would glance at the bones once more, thinking of forneskja and its unity, before turning away ; headed back to the mánilundur.

his guardianship held close to his heart.