There was clear relief in his features when his aunt listened to him, said okay, the young man bowing his head towards her as she turned to leave. Once she was gone, he steeled himself to begin once more, preparing for the hits of ice that were no doubt about to come.

But.

The cavern had stopped it's cracking, it's threatening to collapse around him, as the young seer stared up at the roof in puzzlement. The air was still, too still, as if the world was holding it's breath in anticipation for what was to come.

The calm before the storm?

The moment of stillness before an avalanche?

The quiet tinks of ice hitting the ground reached his ears then, Vitus's searching eyes turning back towards the rune as the gentle winds that had guided the pair of vikings here after the ritual brushed past his legs before rushing out, presumably to Wardruna.

Then, delicately, Vitus made an attempt to pluck the rune out with his teeth.