#grimhymns

❝Who are you? State your business.❞

Mr. Sandman, Man Me A Sand

“You are not powerless. Hunt for yourself. The wilds hold all the furs and meat you could need. Every moment you waste to self-pity is a moment you are not fixing the problem!” he growled. The Lord of Hunters tossed the pitiful creature a knife. It was a well-crafted but also well-used tool. It had had much time to become reliable. It would serve her as well at it had served him.

Mr. Sandman, Man Me A Sand

.

“Perhaps,” she intones, voice laced with the rasp of rawness and dehydration as she looks over to her little companion and offers a gentle smile. “You are kind,” she hums, leaning back to ease herself into a more comfortable position against the wall from where she sits. “Kindness is a hard thing to afford when someone has endured so much, especially as you have.” Her lids sink slightly as her warm gaze searches Kotaru, a hand lifting to take their’s in a brief squeeze.

“You are strong for that. Don’t forget it.”

.:x– @grimhymns​ –x:.

.:x– @grimhymns​ –x:.

In complete honesty, she couldn’t have blamed Serana for failing to notice the archer.

They stand upon a hilltop, overlooking a vast body of water while a dozen fallen hunters lay at their feet. Lorelei sighs; she understands their cause, but she believes it is misplaced and wishes that they did not have to die for the sake of blindly defending it. But she knows that she and her companion had little choice in this matter, for the hunters had not given them one. Still, she can’t help but be harrowed, guilt-ridden.

The reflection of vibrant orange cast over the lake from the setting sun assaults their vision, causing Serana to curse softly and bring a hand forth to shield her gaze from it. In obstructing her line of sight in such a way, however, there is no chance that she would catch the faint glimmer of an arrow being knocked from the treeline, nor the silhouette of the hunter wielding the bow as he aimed directly for her.

But Lorelei has not shielded her eyes.

And the sun’s reflection upon the stem of that arrow tells her exactly what will happen to the vampire should it reach its mark. There is only one material that shines so vividly.

The hunter is too far to stop in time, and she doesn’t bet on him giving her enough time to warn her friend either. She does not speak -- does not think; she simply acts. Footfalls lurching to close what little distance there is between Serana and herself, she thrusts her shield aggressively against the former. It is likely painful, and it sends the vampire reeling to the ground -- a harsh action, no doubt, but at least it gets her out of the arrow’s path.

Unfortunately, it puts the Bosmer directly in it.

The instrument is so slender, so sharp, that it makes no sound as it embeds itself into warm flesh, and for that moment, time shatters. There is no movement from either of them, and the Champion can only stare, eyes wide and filled with something akin to desperation, at Serana.

And then down she goes, the collision of knees and earth not even registering, as her hand moves to grasp at the stem of the arrow.

A silver arrow. Buried into the side of her neck.

With a quick glance at the trees, she discovers that the archer has changed their location. It incites panic within her, and she’s immediately looking back at her companion. Despite the blood that pools at the base of her throat and begins to pour from her mouth, she parts her lips and manages to choke on a single word.

“R-Run!!”

.:x-- @grimhymns --x:.

They had stopped to take a break in a small glade nearby, their feet weary from the plethora of walking they’d managed. Lorelei had dismounted her horse hours ago to allow him to take it easy on the road, and now they were all relatively tired.

She is tending to their campsite while she waits for Serana to return with firewood as requested. When her ears catch the sound of the other woman’s footfalls, her her gaze lifts, a smile following in its place upon the sight of the heap of branches that the vampire has collected. “Ah,” she greets, satisfaction evident in her voice, “that will be more than enough to kindle a fire through the night. Thank you.”

She approaches in order to take the load from her companion, but not before leaning forward to plant her warm lips softly upon the crease of Serana’s cheek. “You’re a doll.”

.:x-- @grimhymns​ --x:.