「 Skill Point ― n/a 」

Asgeir could not sleep that night, the moon above beckoning him with its silver lure. The boy was towards the north of the incident when it occurred, the collapse of the earth that thundered through the valley. Perhaps it was morbid curiosity that drew him to them, but the scent of blood was what caught in his throat.

Bragi, mask lifted, digging.

Sindri, shrill, digging.

It roused something within the golden boy that made him squirm, discomfort clawing up his spine. He made no sound; he did not need to announce himself as he drove forward and joined the pair in removing the debris. Asgeir focused mainly on stopping anything from falling back down on the small body they uncovered, using his body as a brace to the loose gravel and soil.

His eyes darted between Bragi and the child silently, a solemn swallow bobbing his throat.