#flammedor

Francia was indeed a wondrous place, but surely only to those who had always inhabited it. To Helga it was a birth of fear and paranoia. Around every corner was a stranger to not only herself but also her people. She had felt at an unease since arriving at the gate where so many had died previously. Helga did not stand out as she once might’ve, now she adorned herself in clothes that frenchmen would wear and walked the streets bare of khol or jewelry crafted in the language of her gods. She and Angrboda had been brought in secrecy to perhaps one of the last places Floki would look or even hope to find them. Her life was here now, she had to remind herself. Everything was new and old and complicated and strange. It was her beginning.