King Elk Forest ᚷRIÐUNGAR

the norseman is made aware of another presence when the sound of snow crunch comes upon his ears and her scent drifts. blown towards him by the bitter, chilling wind, it is distinctly feminine but in all the ways he enjoys.

those icy eyes turn upon her, and find a stalwart woman. bred of ice and battle, strong shoulders. a fierce face. draugr finds her eyes and stops where he walks, hiking a foreleg and spraying a last stream of stinking, yellowed piss. staining the ground with his stench. 

sterk kona stendur frammi fyrir jarli. the norseman drawls, grit and gravel and ice the fragments that make his voice. he draws himself to his staggering height before her, inhaling a deep breath; his chest and ribs widening.

he displays to her his brawn, his might, and awaits a reaction.