Blacktail Deer Plateau i have burned & burned
38 Posts
Ooc — viz
Offline
#1
Limit Two 
the wardog takes to the wilds in the early throes of the witching hour; tracking the trail has long gone stone cold. if he smells the valkyrja, it is his imagination leading him on false trails like the phantom pain of a limb long since severed.

sugarspun moonbeams drift through the thick foliage of the forest he stalks through; unwilling to release his grasp upon her even if it is most logical. even if everything in him tells him to find a new purpose, a new chooser of the slain to worship.

gleipnir ignores it all.

instead, he keeps following his ghost trails and holding onto the belief that @Sakhmet has not given up nor grown bored of him.
sakhmet is welcome to join in any of gleipnir's threads @ any time.
i am, like everything, a lowly mix /
of the divine, the bestial —
511 Posts
Ooc — siv
Offline
#2
<33333

She stirred in the night.

Restless. Unable to hold onto sleep as long as she would like. The moon bathed her ruddy form, a scarlet dot in the summer flush wilderness. It felt familiar. To wander in the darkness, to claim everything she touched. It seemed when she was hidden she could find confidence.

Only to feel herself fumble in such confidence as she caught his figure in her pale gaze.

He would always stand out from any other pale behemoths. He could not be compared to the icy mountains or be painted with warnings of danger. He was something else entirely.

Her wardog.

She had no words, nothing to beckon him closer with to be sure he was not a moonlight illusion.

All she released was a low whine before she rushed off towards him. Intent to crash into him, unsure if she could take him down, but surely trying all the same.
38 Posts
Ooc — viz
Offline
#3
the gods take pity on him, he thinks as her figure morphs into view in the shadow veiled trees ...or they mock him with her likeness. gleipnir's breath stutters in his throat; caught and captured and help prisoner somewhere near the very base of his throat. she cuts a path through the shrouding shadows and illuminating moonlight like the splice of a bloodied axe. stunning and always captivating to him.

he forces his breath out in a slow exhale when his lungs begin to ache with the yearning for breath; drawing in her scent hauntingly familiar and laced with others.

a spark of hope that she is not a figment of illusion.

and then she is rushing towards him; her quickening footfalls setting the rhythm to which his wardrum heart paced itself to.

she collides with him; flesh and bone. the smart of it lingers like a welcomed pain to the berserker who rumbles his pleasure in his chest like the thunder of a distant storm. to absorb the impact he loosens his muscle and allows himself to fall to the moss cushioned earth beneath the force of her collision.

sakh — he breathes her name, finally; allowing himself to speak it, though it is with hushed reverence as if she were freyja given mortal flesh.
sakhmet is welcome to join in any of gleipnir's threads @ any time.
i am, like everything, a lowly mix /
of the divine, the bestial —
511 Posts
Ooc — siv
Offline
#4
Whines bubbled in her throat, smothering out any words she might have said as she went down with him. A tangle of snow and blood they became.

This was unbecoming of her, she knew it, but she did not stop herself. She had dreamed of him. She had imagined him in snowy places where he should have been. She knew she had been the one drift, but how she had yearned for him so no matter all the distance between them.

Now he was here and she sought to nip feverishly at the thick of his fur.

Finally, when she finds her breath and heart, she cried without concern for those who might be sleeping in the plateau or lurking in the shadows.

Gleipnir!
38 Posts
Ooc — viz
Offline
#5
gleipnir rumbles his pleasure at every feverish nip she leaves against his flesh. thanking the gods with every touch that she is real and not the pale imitations of her visage that haunted his dreams. he has not done her justice; he realizes.

more startling than anything is the realization that with her the ache, the insistent need to search is gone. she feels like home.

ég hef saknað þín. the wardog admits in his native tongue curious as to whether she'd understand or not. as far as his attempts to learn common went he had ceased using and caring about learning it further in her absence and finds himself, predictably, back at square one.
sakhmet is welcome to join in any of gleipnir's threads @ any time.
i am, like everything, a lowly mix /
of the divine, the bestial —
511 Posts
Ooc — siv
Offline
#6
She was blinded by tears that lined her eyes. Not bothered by their appearance and not able to stop them at all. When she finished her barrage of nips, and he spoke his native tongue, she laughed. Loud but light. The first in what felt like forever.

I don't understand. She admitted, tear filled eyes looking at him, but not a sign of sadness on her face. I don't understand, Gleipnir, but that doesn't matter. She reassured him. Unable to fathom that he would have said anything bad.

No, nothing bad could happen. He had returned to her side.

Stay, stay. Come home. I won't leave again. Ever. It all tumbled out so quickly, a mess of words as she sought to bury her face back into his pale fur.
38 Posts
Ooc — viz
Offline
#7
She laughs at the guttural words that he mutters to her like a sinner in the confines of confession and for a moment the berserker feels only confusion, and then dawning realization as sahk speaks again. it makes sense that she does not understand his confession, her lessons had been cut short as his own had been.

i ...missing you. gleipnir tries; struggling through the tenses and butchering the common. despite the knowledge that it does not sound as languid when he speaks it, he hopes he has, at least, gotten translated what he wanted her to know.

'missing her' was an understatement. there were no words for how her absence made him feel; not really.

i stay, gleipnir rumbles assuringly. i stay. with you. a promise, an oath, a vow; for so long as she would have him, he would stay with her.
sakhmet is welcome to join in any of gleipnir's threads @ any time.
i am, like everything, a lowly mix /
of the divine, the bestial —
511 Posts
Ooc — siv
Offline
#8
His chopped tongue was missed. The roughness of his voice over words filled with softness. She could curl up inside his throat and listen to that voice for hours no matter the words that spilled out — but these were her favorite words to hear.

I missed you too. Soft, a confession back. Although she also had no shame in admitting it here to him. He deserved to know that he had indeed occupied both heart and mind despite her distance.

Forever. A wish, more than anything else. If she was to settle here and build a monument to all the things she loved in this life, he need remain by her side for her future. It felt only right. Even if selfish.

You must rest. I will...I will care for you.
38 Posts
Ooc — viz
Offline
#9
her admission, the return of sentiment, gives wings to his heart, fluttering furiously like a caged bird trying to break free of his chest. her words warm him, settling into his bones with acceptance; becoming apart of him. his tail thumps against the ground, expelling his joy which has become much too large for his body to contain any longer.

forever. gleipnir echoes her word; parroting it back to her. it is an important word, this much at least the berserker knows. í þessum heimi og þeim næsta. in this world and the next; gleipnir rumbles the vow, the promise that belonged to her and only her. would he been able to wax it so poetically in her tongue, he would've.

i fine. gleipnir seeks to assure. not want rest.
sakhmet is welcome to join in any of gleipnir's threads @ any time.
i am, like everything, a lowly mix /
of the divine, the bestial —
511 Posts
Ooc — siv
Offline
#10
Once more, she did not understand, but he had agreed. Forever was forever. She had no worries of what he spoke further. It was a blip in the back of her mind, but they would need to pick up language lessons again.

What do you want then? Soft and curious.

Perhaps he was hungry. Perhaps he wanted a tour.

It could be none of those things, she supposed. They could waste away here until sunrise. She would not protest.