[she doesn't know that the world is turning just for her]

Set outside of Frostfang Vale, a couple of miles from the border.
Set a day or two after the Northfall Tournament
Tag: Vitus

Frostfang Vale had been quiet, with most everyone having taken up momentary residence at Northfall. For Euphemia, this was the epitome of ‘you don’t know what you’ve got until its gone’ because, for all of her complaining about the number of bodies and constant activity within Dawnbreak, she missed it sorely when she found herself all alone. There was no one to play with, no one to talk to – not that she did much of that kind of stuff, anyways.

Someone had to watch over the vale in their absence. It was Euphemia, always Euphemia, who stayed behind. Better for her studies to be centered and focused, she reasoned.

However, her sisters and their friends were due back any day now. All had been quiet, but without Genghis around to be the Vale’s stalwart guardian, everything felt risky. The maiden couldn’t stand the oppressive quietness and her rushing monkey-thoughts anymore, so she crossed over the threshold to meet the Dawnbreak group in their travels and usher them back to the Vale that much faster. She desired for normalcy to be restored, though she well understood that this was fleeting and the current flux of finding a new normal was what caused her discomfort;

but for now she stared out at the expanse of land between the two clusters of mountains, her nose pointing forward, waiting to catch a sign of them.

---

Skill: Seer

Vitus wandered.

He'd ranked the highest of the northfall wolves in the tournament, him, the one who's only done the basic training needed of all vikings and whatever tussles his siblings and Fiadh dragged him into. The one who's job was to interpret the signs from the gods and guide the pack.

Was, his job, now that the boy king declared before the world that Northfall denounces all gods like some petty child throwing a tantrum.

As if he spoke for them all, but had the other boy even asked the others?

As Vitus did, he fumed, words he wished to say bubbling under the surface wanting to cut and tear. But. He didn't.

Instead, his anger carried his paws away from the blasphemous boy-king and the rotting lands of Northfall and outward, clearing his head, soothing him.

Peace.

The three crows that had taken to following him around were lazily circling above, drifting, cawing out a warning to him that another was near and snapping him out of his trance. The seer raised his head, pausing for a moment before woofing out a greeting to the wolf in the distance. Dawnbreak, most likely, given the location and distance he's traveled..he should go greet her properly. Vitus turned, and headed towards Euphemia Hallo

[she doesn't know that the world is turning just for her]

skill: [none]

Euphemia stood in her watching place somewhat indignantly, expecting her brethren to appear from overhill, through the miasma, at any moment. She imagined that they had so much fun cavorting with one another that they didn’t want to come home. That the shared memories they co-created caused them great delay from oft keeling over in side-splitting laughter. That’s what friends did when traveling together, right?

Not that Euphemia would know, not ever having traveled or reveled with a friend –not ever truly having had a friend, either.

Except perhaps maybe Mir had once been her friend, but Euphemia had never seen the girl again. Perhaps this was because Euphemia did things such as wait quite impatiently for her family to return at the expected time (or better yet, slightly ahead of the expected return time) and experience a keening jealousy of their relationships that had been hard-fought, and forged through trials they weathered together. Somehow Euphemia was never there at the right time, never able to have the foresight to stay close to certain others, was never curious enough to put herself in unexpected scenarios. And here she was, yet again,

on the outside.
waiting and yearning, and nothing more.

Her heart briefly leaped when she caught a glimpse of a bedraggled soul coming from the direction of Northfall, but just as quickly, she realized it was a stranger. The man of silvers and golds greeted her, and at first, she doted upon him only the briefest of nods – but after a moment, it was like she had suddenly remembered something, and she turned to him once more. Hello, she spoke as she simultaneously smelled him, and realized he smelled of many. Are you coming from the tournament?

---