Chimera Fields hey you, big star

confirmation. he seemed to relax. though something about the words stung his skin, like falling through clouds. one would think that his mother tongue would bring him comfort. ruby eyes focused, now, on the man in front of him. listening. no longer watching the distance. apparently it was the present that mattered to him now.

hárkonungr of forneskja, the title echoed within his mind, and though the king was younger than him, rökkur would dip his head, an action made with respect. sólhárr asked about the shadow, then, and he swallowed a lump that threatened to form within his throat. the thought of his past prickled within the ducts of his eyes. but he hardened himself, frozen like glaciers, tall like mountains.

i am rökkur. i hail from tunglbörn. the moonchildren. borne atop the tallest spire, their life both a gift to and a blessing from the moon. i held no fancy title. i was merely a warrior. son of the mercenary and his bride. nephew to their chief, though it was them who betrayed his youth. the urge to sigh, though the breath was held.

i have come here to escape my past. a sentence that seemed to simmer within his mind, portrayed by the glint of sorrow that shone within his gaze. he missed his mother. but you, brother. why do you find yourself here? upon these lands, this meadow? rökkur wondered if there was a greater meaning, a greater purpose, of this interaction.