Can I be a child again? ( Take me back to when laughter was endless, and my dreams were bigger than my fears. )
3-3-3 OC

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Speech Emotional Actions Thoughts

Brynhild had been uneasy about the recent events, the dreams, the ones that many had talked about and yet, didn't know the source of. Her chest heaved with soreness, one that lingered day by day; her shoulders ached and yet she kept on. Kept pushing forwards into the snow around, for Ylva, for Dawnbreak, she had to, never has she failed to protect those she cared for.

This day, she had planned to relax, it all seemed quite, calm, so to say, the sky was cloudy, blocking the sun's blazing rays, she had to thank the mother for that, for her blessing on the lands to not roast one more day under the sun. The former blade lay in the vales fog, her entire body sprawled in it's safety, she hadn't planned to do much, but she'd noted recently of a specific wolf, one she'd saw not..acting their usual and so, the suneater rolled to her cracked paws and ventured into the fog to search for her.

Tiberii.

Her chest thrummed with each step, every beat of her heart loud in her ears. Every noise around was one she knew well, the chirps of birds, the scuttering of wildlife in the undergrowth, the hooves of goats, elk. When Brynhild entered the main part of the territory, she sniffed the grass below, sifting through every smell till she found Tiberii's, and thus, searched the wolf down, huffing wafts of the wolfs smokey scent into his nostrils.

Skill:

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The days continued to shift, blurring one into the next. Tiberii’s feet were heavy, but they moved with the rhythmic beat of intent. Scour the borders. Fill the caches. Protect who was left.

These were the things her mind focused on, and she only allowed herself to drift into the emotional when faced with pointed fingers and angled words. The fire of her heart stayed cooped within the cage of her chest, allowing but a shell of a cool exterior to exist to most who came to her. She was not exactly … unpleasant. It was more prickly than anything; her motions edged with the hints of a sadness that bordered rage.

Grief. It was a cruel monster.

And even now, she noted the distant, weakening scents of Hexx and his family. Her one remaining friend (well, friends, really) outside of her family, had dispersed as well. And just like that the youth of Dawnbreak were gone.  Perhaps it was for the best. Perhaps it would be safer for them that way. She’d only wished that he’d said something. But then again, what did it matter? If they were safer away from her, then that was all she cared to think about.

Distracted, she barely noticed the familiar scent of a pack mate lingering in her wake.

The bull would lift her head, peering backward toward the earthen-hued wolf behind her, cupping her ears as her golden gaze glanced outward. She recognized her as one of Sølvi ‘s family, and instantly, she felt a sharp sting in the base of her chest.

Solvi.

Tiberii would frown, the softness of her sadness etched delicately into the curve of her lips. But she would steel herself. She had to. Bryn. The bull would let out a short wuff of greeting. Tiberii’s mind spun, trying to think of something — anything — to say. But she knew that nothing could heal the wounds that Dawnbreak suffered right now. How ya holdin’ up? It was a loaded question, but it was all she could think to say, and it seemed more appropriate than simply staring.