#jorindae

“Don’t stare too long, leafy. You’ll topple an ice floe with that look.”

Kirika spun around at the sound of the husky voice. Before her stood a norn woman, hair swept in haphazard directions, no doubt from the harsh arctic wind. She had a sword in one hand and a freshly slain stag slung over her shoulders. The norn was much bigger than she was, for certain, and yet Kirika could not help but marvel at how she could carry the weight of such a beast upon her shoulders as if it were nothing but a sheet of cloth. “Oh! H-Hello! I’ve seen you before, haven’t I? You’re the norn that visits the guild from time to time, J… Jorindae, was it?”

The norn shrugged. “Sure, if it suits you.”

A deep “hoo” caught her attention, and on cue, a snowy owl popped up from the tresses of Jorindae’s hair and stared at her intensely with its round yellow eyes. She smiled at the creature. “What a lovely owl friend you have!”

Jorindae rolled her eyes, not nearly as impressed. “Don’t stroke his ego,” she muttered as she started striding away down the hill.

Kirika watched her retreating form, puzzled as to her sudden departure. “I suppose I shall see you around?” she called to her.

The norn craned her neck back—as much as she could, at least, while carrying a stag on her shoulders. “Naw. Go home. You’re not made for these parts,” she hollered back.

Kirika knitted her brow, once again puzzled. Such a strange thing to say, but surely she couldn’t have meant any offense. She jogged a few steps forward to close the distance between the two of them and called after her again, “Well… Yes, I suppose it’s true that the people of our kind may not do well in colder temperatures, but I assure you th— “

“No. I mean it. You won’t do well out here. So get out while you can.”

The sylvari’s eyes narrowed this time, an uncommon fiery anger blooming in the depths of her chest. She jogged over faster so that she could keep up with the norn’s pace. “I’ll have you know, I may be small, but I am very capable of fending for myself! I’ve studied quite a bit of elemental magic!”

Jorindae’s stony expression did not waver. “I’m tellin’ you, leafy. You’re gonna be miserable.”

“Now see he—eeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEE—!!” She had slipped, the culprit none other than a patch of ice beneath her feet camouflaged by the white snow, and like a jet, Kirika was sent shrieking down the hill, teetering on one foot and arms flailing. She collided with the snow at the foot of the hill and tumbled forward like an out-of-control wheel. When she stopped, her rump was tightly corked into a solid trench in the ice, and try as she might, she could not wrestle herself free.

“’Tried to warn you.”

Kirika looked up to see her norn guild mate towering beside her, head still spinning. “H-How—“

Jorindae lifted up one boot-clad foot. “Funny thing about ice. Made of water, and that’s generally not the kind of stuff you wanna walk around on without the right footwear.” She pointed her sword down to Kirika’s feet to illustrate. “Anyway. Enjoy the Sound.”

The color drained from her face as she realized the norn’s intentions to leave her stuck in the ice. She weakly reached out a hand after her. “Wait! P-Please, you can’t just leave me here!”

A chuckle. “You really underestimate what I’m capable of doing then.”

“Please! If I made you angry, I’m sorry!”

She turned to face back towards the sylvari with a smirk. “I don’t have much use for apologies. But if it’s something else, I may consider it. You gonna start thinking smarter?”

“Yes!”

“You gonna quit your tongue-wagging?”

“Yes! Yes!”

“You gonna listen to what I say?”

“Yes! Please!”

Jorindae tapped a finger to her lips, as if mulling it over. Finally, she shook her head. “Naw. Don’t feel like it.”

Kirika’s eyes threatened tears. Lips trembling, she opened her mouth, hoping once more to plead for freedom, or forgiveness, or anything, but before she could get a sound out, Jorindae had plucked her out of the trench and slung the sylvari over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She was rendered speechless as she hung limply from the norn. What else could she do when her face was inches away from a freshly slain stag, eyes glazed and tongue lolling. The snowy owl had, fortunately, made room for her by repositioning himself onto his companion’s head.

“Th-thank you for helping me, but could you please let me down now?” Kirika muttered weakly.

“If you wanna go for another tumble on the ice, be my guest. But you’ve run out of favors from me.”