Wapun Meadow cast by their grave-beseeming ornaments

Nice to me? Her questions breeches the previously settled silence while his suggestion had hung in the balance between them. It is a fair enough question — a answer that she had a right to. Would he be nice to her? He had no reason not to be. They shared a tongue …even if her words were picked and chosen but he could teach her. She was a northerner like him ( as far as Wardruna cares to see it ) and he realizes abruptly how starved for that he is. Oh, he could be hideously cruel when he wanted to be …but he could be good to her. He would be good to her. “Yes,” The sound rasps from his throat and he gives it a soft clear and a sheepish grin that tugs ever so slightly at his lips. “Yes.” He reiterates. “I will be nice to you. I will take care of you.” Wardruna promises, though admittedly as far as he can see she does not appear like she needs care like Noma does. Sif appears healthy enough; and furthermore appears to be willing enough — if not, understandably, hesitant. Wardruna is patient, hopeful that she will agree to travel with him.

205 words