Wardruna could not escape the fear which compelled her actions, causing her to back away the moment the plague lay eyes on her. She knew she would die, one day at least and hoped that it would be gloriously, or even remotely so. Not by this abomination which walked their world now.

The moment it said she could go, she quivered, a mix of relief and yet still obvious fear. But he - he could not. Eyes turned to the quivering ginger, urine, desease and terror overwhelming her senses.

Just go. His death would not be so in vain then, if in those last moments they believed themselves to be a sacrifice for her? She have a curt nod to the ginger wolf. To Valhalla then. She didnt know this man's beliefs, yet held close to her own. She didnt imagine he would go there, either, but it was the only thing she felt she could offer as Wardruna turned tail and ran.