Firestone Hot Springs silence can mock

whoops again

Njal lapsed in to an uneasy silence when the man refused to help - stating that it was not in his power, and effectively bringing the silver wolf to full alert. He could hear Lecter speaking but in his state of mind, could not discern the words properly. It was likely he was speaking an incantation or, perhaps, willing these spectres to come at him. Njal couldn't tell if this man was friend or foe any longer. He had smelled of the creek - no, no, he had smelled of Jinx - and now his medicines had begun causing havoc in his system. This was no strength potion.

With his belly pressed in to the soil and rock beneath him, he quietly yowled at the figure as it came closer. As the badger took a more solid form (rooted to Njal's mental identification) it swelled and grew to an immense size; halting with it's mouth open as if to consume the man's face. He felt hot breath wheeze past his features and squeezed his eyes shut.

As Njal did not know of the bear gods in any great manner, it would be unlikely that his spiritual awakening would come in the form of the great hulking spirits. The badger ghost did grow, however. It swelled and became a great and blinding monument of steam and light. What Njal saw touched upon the roots of his own heritage in the North; his mind connected to his father's pantheon and the mixed gods and goddesses back upon Markarth Peak. There was a muddied fray of spirits there, many of which he did not believe in.

Except now, Njal was made to reconsider.

The badger held no significance to him. It was a creature he had seen upon his first days amongst the creek wolves - it only became relevant after the cougar attack and a blow to his head, but he was not aware of this. Perhaps he had seen the goddess Syn in the mouth of his den that day, protecting him and his wife from troubles he had imagined. The goddess that sprung to his mind now was not a protective spirit but a vengeful one - the drowned woman, Marzanna. Complying to his thoughts, the creature which sat above him began to hiss with laughter. It's gaping mouth - set with rows upon rows of teeth - dripped a warm spray across his face. Anointing it with saliva (which happened to just be condensed water that steamed by his scrunched face).

Njal mewled and pawed at the earth, wishing he could make the effects ebb - but there was nothing he could do. Waiting would serve a purpose but it would be a difficulty, for the sounds of Lecter moving in the dirt only fueled more of an imagination in the stout man. The spirit began to roam but at the same time, it felt like it was still breathing across his face. An immense deity had been summoned and refused to leave, forcing the proud and able warrior to grovel at its feet.