Raise your Shields

She could smell him.

Thar musky scent lingering with rock and salt.

“Ragnar...” His name whispers on her lips, carried with the breeze. There was a great open plains between Cloudrest and here as she traveled west. She could not yet see the ocean but could see the mountain ridge in the distance, it's peaks all white in snow still despite summer months.

Here, they would not have to worry about the heat overwhelming then but the winters would be trialing, she knew. She began to think on this as she moved forward... the summers they could enjoy the cold in the higher elevations but even down here the temperature was pleasant, cool. During winter, the lower elevations would be best to keep warm within the forestry.

Now she neared the foothills where the forest came before her. Green everywhere, tall trees she remembered well in the north, unchanged by the seasons.  Here as she moved into the forestry, the mountains ahead were nearly hidden by their thick trunks and stretching limbs.

Here, she calls for him.

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There is an invisible chain which forever links them, just as the one for his sister long from him now. He does not hear her whisper to him, but somehow still knows she has come.

The Stormborn makes his decent down the lower elevations of his home and into the green of the pine and spruce trees of the forest which shielded them.

His home thus far has always held a promising breeze and now the sea-salt air brings with it the scent of Sindri. He sings to her, quickening his step as the little peachy maiden comes into view. Though he is filled with much relief his features become solemn with the realization that Sindri finds her way back home alone. Their son had not been recovered.

He embraces her with all manner of affection he can offer. “Welcome home, Sindri.”

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And there he was, the golden blonde prince she remembered well. She rushes to him, to fill the gaps between them, to breathe in his scent as she presses herself to his chest.

He needn't speak. She already knew what was on his mind. The obvious, really, for it was there missing son which had made a stray the mother from the rest of her children. He welcomes her and with a heavy breath she lifts her crown and looks out around the forest about them.

“The Gods have taken our son on a path far from here...” She admits her defeat when it came to finding him. But of all her pups, he was of the most reclusive, lost somewhere between their world and the next. Further and further his mind strayed and if anyone could not only survive but thrive alone, it would be him.

Sindri would ask the man at her side then, as she move further into the territory, what the name was of their new home... It yet to have one.

She takes another deep breath- of evergreens pine and spruce. The tallest of the trees are dark green or blue-green in hue. The air is crisp, the ocean not far and she longs to see it. Closer to the mountain, she can see higher where trees dot the ridges before opening up to snowy dark peaks shrouded by ocean mists. It was a beautiful place, a beautiful home.

“norður haust.” She speaks the language of the Gods, “Northfall.”

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