Stone Circle Way down inside honey, you need it,

The morning broke slow and gray, clouds hanging low like sodden cloth draped over the hills. Cole moved west, the damp underbrush muffling the sound of his approach. The scent of lichen and earth clung to him, familiar now, a part of his days as much as the breath in his lungs.
He did not speak. He never did when he scouted alone.
By the time he reached the edge of the stone circle, the mist had begun to lift, curling away like smoke from an old fire. He paused there—just beyond its boundary. The standing stones rose like silent sentinels, blackened with age, pocked by time. They held their secrets well.
Cole didn’t cross into the ring.
Instead, he stood still, yellow eyes scanning the clearing with quiet vigilance. Not out of fear, but respect. Whatever power lingered here, it wasn’t his to challenge. He’d seen enough to know better.

---

ᚦ — it is some time before the wight appears. he had been within the stone forest, freshening the markers that had been soiled by the intruder @Vémundr draugr had dealt with the night prior. both ears torn from head, and tail cut from his body in half.
he lay in stitches beneath the steinhaugr, and is spared a glowering, smoldering glance from the passing jarl as he goes. attention drawn by the silhouette of a stranger standing upon his borders nearest the circle. draugr huffs, a cold breath; and goes.
saddling up with thundering pawsteps, giving a loose shake of spring dew from paws and rolling thick and dark shoulders webbed by leathery scars. speaking, then, a gravelly sound, thick with the north's accent. you eru first not til step over. draugr says with narrowing eyes.
gesturing with thick, worn paw to the piss-fuming marker that separates in invisible line between them. who eru you?

Cole did not move as the heavy footfalls approached, the stranger emerging from the stone forest with all the weight of a storm behind him. Massive. Scarred. Reeking of carrion—like the other one he'd met days before. Likely from the same band, if the scent and build were any indication.
His stance shifted only slightly, ensuring he stayed firmly on his side of the border, one eye on the piss-soaked marker between them.
I'm not here to cross, Cole said plainly, voice low and gravel-worn. Just scouting.
He held the stranger’s stare without flinching. There was something old in the man’s eyes—worn and war-heavy—but Cole had seen worse, fought harder. He knew when to hold ground.
This circle, he continued, nodding toward the stones behind the other male, was claimed by others before. Is it yours now?
The silence that followed was taut, but Cole didn’t press. He didn’t step forward. He didn’t challenge.
I'm Cole.

---

ᚦ — i am drøugr af níundu barrow. his tongue flicks across teeth. but inn your tungu, they call minn draugr.
this male has something in him that draugr likes. he must, or he would have likely done two things by now: attacked him, or spit in his face. and where exactly did the line between those two originate?
a grin. black lips pulling up and away from yellowed teeth, now still smeared in the blood of the body that lay crumpled—but still breathing—within the steinvardr that rises and frames him in battle's glory.
ef you meina the, eh, boys, smoldering eyes of sun and yellowed sclera slide from man in front of him briefly to the canopy of trees gloating ahead, and then chuckles lowly, slowly, crassly. they leave. a shrug.
his tail flicks, and he makes to walk closer to the steinvardr, having given permission for the other to come within. komdu. and then, he draws himself away and licks his chops. minn gods lead ég til steinvardr. what you say, stone circle. scents hér fading. i make krafa. this is where minn father odin wish ég to be.
he turns suddenly, pinning the man with a cold eye. the boys attack. heimskulegt boys. i offer mercy, tell þeim to go. twice. but do not listen. svo i split face in half.

Cole listened with the quiet intensity of a man who had seen enough to know when to keep his mouth shut. The accent was thick, words strange, but he caught the rhythm, enough to understand the weight behind them. This Draugr wasn’t bluffing. He didn’t need to. The blood still fresh on his maw.
He gave a single nod. Didn’t flinch when the name Odin was spoken, nor when those sun-scorched eyes turned to him with something like warning. Cole had seen worse men than this—but not many. And not recently.
Draugr, he repeated gruffly, the name thick on his tongue. Reckon that’s a strong name.
His gaze drifted to the stone circle. It stood like a spine carved from the earth. Old. Powerful. He knew better than to question a man who’d claimed it with blood.
You hold it now, he said simply. No challenge, no fear. Just fact. Ain’t my place to argue what your gods will. His voice, low and rough, carried no judgment. Just the grit of hard-earned respect.
But he didn’t move forward. He didn’t cross the line. Not yet.
I came to see, Cole added after a pause, his tone unreadable. Now I have.
He flicked his ears toward the steinvardr ( as he called it ), then back to the man before him. Whatever boys came before—weren’t mine.

---

ᚦ — draugr takes note that he is hesitant to cross over that which marks safety between them both. he turns, thundering steps, then stops. raising cold, appraising eye to the man; it glitters, and his teeth come in thick smile.
good. is all draugr says.
if this man understands, then they will have no issues. this is land that draugr has claimed—fair and square. the mewling boys would be no match for draugr or any of the men who stood under his mantle, who fought for him.
draugr's silence should mark the end of this interaction.

Cole stood his ground, the sharp scent of the border biting at his nose. The larger male turned away with a final word—just one. Good.
That was all he needed to hear.
Cole gave a small nod, before casting one last glance toward the stone circle beyond the treeline. He didn’t step over. Didn’t need to. Let the man have his claim.
Then we’ve got no quarrel, he said, voice low and rough as gravel. With that, he turned back the way he came, heavy steps fading into the hush of the trees.