#roskr

Rain was an absolute misery. Metal may not absorb water, but fabric sure as spit did. Even his leathers soaked some up, despite his attempts to treat them. The added weight seemed as though it was determined to drag him to the ground- hell, THROUGH the ground for that matter. It hadn’t doubled in weight, but it felt like it.        It was with dim hopes that he watched as Aloy crouched over what might become a fire. Those hopes swelled as she dropped to the ground and he sat up... only to slump back down as a sharp breeze pelted them and soaked Aloy’s fire.         His fingers felt for the belts of his chest piece and he paused as she turned towards him. They’d exhausted his usual fire starting methods, but he might have something.        “Well- I mean, I have some Blaze? We could douse a rag; little spark and-” He gestured, imitating a little explosion with a soft ‘whoosh’. 

Erend panted, trying not to think about how heavy his armor suddenly seemed, or how Aloy felt pressing down on top of him. He let himself go limp; fighting would be useless from here.        Forgefire. He was grateful that his thick armor didn’t betray what lay beneath.        He grinned up at her. “You’re fast, I’ll give you that, but I barely even felt your blows.” Carefully uncurling his hands from where they gripped the shaft of his hammer, he tapped one finger against his chest where it was pinned; Vanguard steel. “Good luck getting through this.”        Unable to help himself, he exhaled in relief as she backed off, letting his hands fall to his sides. Underneath his armor, he was burning- and it wasn’t from the training.         His armor clinked lightly as he used his hammer as a lever to get to his feet and, for an answer, he shifted into a ready stance and lifted his weapon with a grin.        “I’ll get you this time,” he promised.

The place was strange to her. She had not learned all customs and cultures in the nine realms, but she had learned to protect herself and take care of herself. And of others. She looked at the woman close by. “If you want, I could prepare food and shelter for us both. I am Sigyn.” She had seen her from afar and addressed her from afar

He watched her work, skilled hands cleaning the rabbits as deftly as she had cut down the squalor. He was fascinated, curious to be so taken care of. It was an odd sensation, one that stuck between his ribs and warmed him. “Like a scythe, in a field full of briars,” he said amidst the fire’s cackle, before looking down at the bandit camp in the valley. The frost clung to his lungs and naked chest– but it would freeze the corpses they laid waste below. “You killed most of them,” he commented, jovial, “I should be making your dinner,” he mused.