#speakhand

moonlight shone upon the roarer as he sat by sparking and burning fire in his small camp. the cold, blue of the moon blended with the warm orange of the flames across his skin. the smell of grilled fish and various meats over the fire could be traced from a far distance; wolves prowled quietly around the camp; hungry for what the god could offer, but knew better than to attack the father of monsters; the father to the giant wolf, fenrir. so, they waited until, perhaps, the lfound it in his heart to be generous. loke smirked with both eyes closed. he was well aware of the man hiding in the shadows, the sly deity ( posturing as a mortal ) threw a slab of meat towards the man. 

 “  hungry? oh, don’t be shy, all you had to do was ask.  ”

a jest, and a taunt. would the man approach him now that loke made it known to him that he was not hidden?

✯ A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE SENTENCES / PART SIX || @speakhand

     ❝ perhaps, ❞ a flick of curiosity, a touch of tongue tip to the edge of a canine behind closed lips, ❝ but who’s intrigue would not be caught by such ── darkness ? ❞ 

     it bore on the mind, the very soul. patiently in waiting. it hinted not at ferocity but subtlety; the subtlely of the shadows and its precision. she sensed it even in times she had not wished to. such was a being of light, the being shaped by its very form. it drew to her luminescence. but it also drew shade and the creeping shadow thereof. how she lived, how she carried herself ─ all so bright. all so loving. such was a blessing. such was a curse. one could only guess what such a thing could ever want with something so inherently blessed .

two words // meme cache

Was this a thinly veiled comment about what had been going on in Kirkwall or his secrets from the Inquisition. Arms fold --- he tries to not take an aggressive stance, that smug smirk helping him ( as much as it can ). 

“As much as I’d like to, Speaker,” she began, easily slipping her Blade of Woe from its sheath before darting around Lucien, into the shadows of the surrounding forest. There was a brief struggle in those shadows, a choked gasp, then a thud. Moments later she re-emerged, dragging the body of an armored man alongside her. Blood now stained her own shrouded armor, as well as the blade of the dagger. She dropped the body at Lucien’s feet, scowling bitterly at the familiar armor. “The blade wasn’t for you. It was for him.”

She cleaned off the dagger before sheathing it and crouching beside the body. “Penitus Oculatus,” she confirmed, mostly to herself. “They’re probably keeping guard of this sanctuary. The surviving Family members wouldn’t be here, then. If I had to take a guess, I’d say they went to the abandoned Dawnstar sanctuary.” She rose to her feet again, raising her cowl over her head, then looked to Lucien again. 

“I DID NOT kill them,” she snapped at the Speaker. Not her best choice, no, but she was fuming. How dare he imply she would knowingly cause the death of her Family. Had she known Maro would turn on her, she’d have slit his throat before even trying to negotiate.

BEYOND THAT, SHE had only thought to sacrifice one for the good of the many. And Cicero? He had it coming, after he tried to kill her and mortally wounded Veezara and Arnbjorn in the process. He had no place in her Family, as far as she was concerned,