i am a destroyer

Tuwawi pressed into the two-tone's circle urgently -- the dethroned's collar suddenly wrung tight against her paper skin -- but it didn't take much persuading for the waif for spill what details she kept. The Sveijarn's jaw clenched as she stared at the witch's slanted face, astonished and heeding her words -- and lies -- against another's better judgement. "Malachi? Tell me what?" Tuwawi lipped as the stranger spun him into the conversation, her expression dark and perplexed. The siren insinuated he was keeping information from the ember, but never could Tuwawi reach at what.

Yet as the vagrant continued to speak the color drained from the ember's visage. It was as if the rug had been pulled out from the matriarch's feet -- grip lost on reality -- her insides petrified info stone in the wake of this news. Larus? Her child? Alive? Tuwawi's jaws visibly parted in disbelief as her breath struggled against man's collar. The Bay? Stavanger? Her mind reeled but she glared into the West where the ocean slumbered. Had the vikings taken her baby?

A barren lament wracked her then, grief fresh like a new wound. A dormant violence began to rise in that moment -- a scorned hate for those who had so fiendishly wronged her. Tuwawi had no more words for the messenger, but the snap of her jaws ushered the Bay's urchin away and she, in turn, moved from the borders, too.