#frostcalled

it’s not a salty munday meme for once but watch me turn it into one | accepting

(づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ: are you a hugger?

          Tobias doesn’t necessarily relax -- there is that ever-present ease to his poise, one that is fabricated and practiced -- but he does let out a soft sigh as her fingers card through and curl around his thick hair.

The air was frigid, but no more so than usual: It was the wind that was brutal today...

Although the skies were still clear for now, Darius knew from experience that winds like these almost always foreshadowed an incoming storm. His lip twitched up as the smell of fresh ice and snow wafted toward him in the gales. They had maybe an hour before the blizzard rolled in. They would need to move quickly, but that was easier said than done. They hadn’t seen game in days, and while they had enough rations to last themselves a while longer, the same could not be said for the rest of his tribe to the south. They were not without food, but one couldn’t survive long in the Freljord without a substantial protein source. 

And it was precisely that lack of prey that had driven them this far north. It was a risky endeavor, that was for certain. All manner of beasts roamed the wild in these parts, and, even more concerning, the Watchers were more prevalent as well. The further north they traveled, closer to the Howling Abyss, the more dangerous these hunts became. But this far into the winter, there was little choice. With four of his best hunters in tow, they pressed on, searching for any signs of wildlife. 

Even with nothing to fight, his axe remained in his his grasp as they moved, switching from one hand to the other every once in a while to even out the weight. But even over the howl of the wind, Darius remained ever aware of his surroundings. 

The sound of someone, or something, nearby caught his ears. He stopped in his tracks, holding up a hand to bring his followers to a halt. With a turn of his head, he looked to the suspected direction. The two archers he had brought lifted their bows, aiming in the general direction, should any form of game appear just briefly...

Sacrifice. 

They had sacrificed much indeed. They were willing to die for their cause, and they would not go easy. Not like a lamb to the slaughter. 

“Every night and day I pray that you are correct, milady.” Every night and day, they could see their faces. Hear their names spoken. Mass funerals, mass pyres. For the sake of peace. 

“Inevitable.” They echoed. Disbelief still heavy upon their lips. Indeed, such a thing could be considered inevitable. A byproduct of change. And yet, it still left a bitter taste upon their lips.