Stone Circle Way down inside honey, you need it,

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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.