#oftruenature

“Well aren’t you looking rather sprightly in your old age! Needed a change of venue? A change in appearance? I realize Odin can be a nasty piece of work, but I really thought you could do better than... this. Hiding out in the back end of the woods in the guise of a mortal.”

            Staring intently at a hare that would soon be his dinner. A raspy growl rings through the area. His now alarmed dinner scurries out of sight. “  Fucking Christ   ” he rumbled. Pushing himself away from the tree before a claw slashed at the bark. A tall, dark grey lean creature watched the young man jump back. “   You ugly cunts just don’t know when to fuck off, do you?    ” At that the creature screeched, lunging at him. Trevor dodged, quickly staking the beast through its rib cage. An ear-piercing SCREAM came from the creature. Hands found the sides of the hunter’s head. When they died down, Trevor sighed. God just LOVES to fuck with him. Eyes widen as more screeches come from behind him. Yep, the LORD really has it out for him.

     It was foolish of him to come here after everything that had happened between them. But were else should he go? He was all alone now. He was injured, and even though he hated to admit it to himself, he was too weak to fight Odin in this state.

     Even if there was a way for Atreus to bring his father back. He wouldn’t know how to start, wouldn’t know where to go or who to ask. Atreus had been safe near his fathers’ side.

     But now?

     He was weak.      He was scared.      He was desperate.

     Finally arriving in the witches caves, he dragged himself up to Freya’s door. Only coming to a stop right infront of it. One hand wrapped over his stomach, he held his injured side. Trying to ignore the coldness of his blood-soaked clothes.

     He lifted his other hand, but instead of knocking, he only rested it against the wood. Pressing his eyes together, he took a sharp breath and bit down on his lower lip.

     Was he mad to come here? Was he so desperate to believe that SHE would help him? What’s to say that she wouldn’t just end him, right here and there? Or worse, give him straight to Odin? But were else should he go then? What else should he do? His home destroyed. Himself beaten and bloodied.

        she's bruised.    battered.    her hosts are coming alive,    and she's getting the short end of the stick.    they're not LISTENING to her anymore!    not doing what she wants anymore!    she's getting hurt —— and it's all her fault.    she knows it's her fault,    KNOWS she shouldn't have done it.    santi does not care.    she wanted to be their creator,    wanted to create PERFECTION.    crimson leaks over brow,    sad eyes cast downwards in front of the woman.    santi is bright,    santi is PERSEVERING.    however,    this woman has an air of power even she did not posses.    (    any other given interaction,    situation,    and this would have annoyed her.    )    for once,    she chooses not to speak.

“he’s better looking then Odin was.”

For truth be told, Lunafreya had always wondered behind the true meaning of her name, told only that it was, in part, the namesake of a goddess. For tales of another world to align were rare, wanted phenomena. That she might commune with gods and goddesses of other realms and seek the divine outside of her, for wisdom, for insight. For these war maidens seemed to bare parallels in their own right, even if she was still but only a celestially-blessed mortal woman. In her forest did Luna await, giving no intrusion but only letting her presence be known. Should she accept or shun would it be respected all the same.

“I pray I do not intrude upon your hallowed dominion, though I merely wish to accede my praise unto you, Lady Freya.”

     Her question brings a laugh from his chest, released as a breathy sound from his nose. Caspian steps closer, though still cautious, to be closer to the woman as he answered, the tilt of his head giving away his curiosity.

     ❝Well, I suppose we both haven’t heard the stories of the other currently in our company.❞ There’s perhaps a hint too much sarcasm in his tone, and before long, his eyes begin to shift around, taking in his strange surroundings carefully. Assessing any and all points of escape should such be necessary. ❝Stories of strange happenings and people disappearing tend to just draw me in, like a moth to a flame. A thrill seeker, some may call me.❞