Larksong Grotto Lokasenna

there had been signs of life within the hollow.
blood, having run cold, spattered the earth. she thought perhaps her call had been answered by a sister of the wood. the thought was frightening, and in that fear lay her answer.
thank you, she willed to the dawn. it was time to hunt elsewhere. this was not her reik's blood¹, of that brunhild was certain.

her path cut across the ice. she made good time.

daughter! where are you? carried her cry.

the forlorn woman held laughter in her heart. she imagined the boom of her father's voice. a smile tugged at her cheeks. he was with her now, following on the wind, howling across the mouth of the foreign grotto as she sought shelter. 

hail, woden, master of souls. hail, father. please bring my daughter home. brunhild praised, praying in the dark. when she stepped out in to the midday sun she cast her chin up, hopeful.