Sleeping Dragon red: the color of desire

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With her children rapidly growing and no longer needing her constant supervision Gyda spent many of her days patrolling the borders and sparing with Eske who seemed like she became more and more aggressive each day. There was the fire of a valkyrie in her ...and though she didn't dare speak it aloud: the fire of Ragnar Loðbrók. Yet, she saw the man in her children despite that he had not been her biological father. It was circumstance of her coloring and her own disposition but being able to make the connection warmed her, which was why she kept it as her own little secret. Something to give her a small smile when she needed it. The request of her eldest child was heard and Gyda's course altered immediately, her even strides drawing her near to the rendezvous den. Soon, it would be too small for all of them: her children would leave the nest which made her wonder, idly, if Gavriel, too would leave or if he would remain to keep her company. As it was, Gyda was so used to sharing her living space that the thought of having it to herself once more was an awfully lonely thought.

She brushed it away as her pace slowed, her daughter's pale form coming into view as she neared. Gyda smiled lovingly and closed the distance to place a kiss atop her daughter's head. “Hello my sweet Freyja.” She cooed softly to her child in greeting.

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