3/26/2025, 2:32 AM
The girl's hackles lifted, defiance carving canyons into her once-fear-stricken features.
Sverke had little mercy, and he'd already spent his scant share today. He peeled a lip up to flash a fang at her, a pretty clear and direct threat he was half-convinced to follow through on without further prompting. Cupid's bastards sure knew how to test his patience...but their thick skulls could prove useful, he decided.
I won't tell if you don't, she claimed. Sverke snorted, obviously displeased at the idea of being told what to do. Especially when it came to such juicy details as the seer-hood of this sister.
Sure, she claimed they weren't visions. He believed her. He just didn't understand why she had to be so scared of lying about it.
Whatever.Sverke sneered. Bragi peeled herself off the snow, staring at it in disgust. He couldn't help but feel the same. Thank the gods - thank his mother - she hadn't died and made a worse mess. She tried to cover the blood-splattered snow with more snow, before turning the question onto him.
Sverke shuffled his paws, fighting the urge to start pacing.
A...chariot, fiery and bright as the sun. Brighter, maybe. It burns everything, including me, but I....It...the monster in the visions...He did start pacing, looping across the snow in tight, controlled figure eights.
He has to capture the chariot, so he does. And he tears it apart.
And the world follows suit. Sverke thought, but did not say.
