11-13-2021, 10:28 PM
(This post was last modified: 11-17-2021, 10:54 AM by Aso. Edited 1 time in total.)
Ira had worked through the night, her efforts never slowed even after the various trips up and down the mountainside. It had taken some time for her to return to the fallen woman, her priorities on the son that was left behind. Adjustment would take time, though with Liutheri as settled as he would get for the night and her own children tucked at her husband's side, she would linger only long enough for the babes to fall asleep. When her absence wouldn't be noticed, or at least for some time, she left taking to the shadows that now fell from moonlight.
She wished to work fast, taking great care as she trod down the mountain to the lightly covered body. Just as she suspected, the birds had returned even with night's cover. Who could blame them though? A free meal so large was rarely left unattended that the rewards may just outweigh the risks. A throaty growl met her voice once more as she shooed them, fangs snapping at any who thought to test her threat until she felt the coast clear enough to pick away what foliage she had scrapped together to hide the red-stained pale furs.
Jaws would securely clamp along the woman's neck, careful in her hold despite the lack of feeling she now had. She may be dead, but she was still to be respected, so with great care she dragged the fallen body down her mountain to the lush hunting grounds below. She still knew not what had caused her demise. A threat very well could linger in the Run, but she would rather take to the night and see for herself than let it roam and harm another. Now able to gather the scents from Audumla's pelt, it was clear that her suspicions of a mountain lion or something of the sort had indeed seized her life. How frustrating to think that the one who had been here only days before might have been the cause, but he would hopefully stick to the words of the pale one and stay by her side away from her territory.
Truthfully, Ira knew not where to burry the woman. She had come to Ullarcraig simply for softer ground, but the location would need to be one that could be easily accessed. They had no dead now, but should Vanderfell thrive here, death was inevitable. A proper graveyard was something they needed to invest efforts into eventually, it just seemed that they would be starting early. To the northern reaches of the woods, she recalled the trees thinning a great deal, and so it was this way that she traversed. Luck or the gods be on her side tonight, not only would Ira eventually find suitable grounds to burry, but a landmark to mark the area as well.
Great stones were piled atop each other, not very high, but something a wolf would never be able to accomplish. What more was the odd arch that seemed to form between two walls. It reminded her much of the gates of legend, but it was foolish to believe that Valhalla was anywhere within their reaches. What laid beyond though was a field with various rubble and stones scattered about. Had she known more she might recognize that walls had been torn down once, but now all that remained was a ruin. They say Fólkvangr belonged to Freyja though, the goddess who cared for those who had been sent to eternal meadows instead of the feasts among kings.
So a gate to Fólkvangr then...replicated by coincidence or a stretch, it seemed as good a place as any for them to put a soul to rest, so after scouting the wide fields beyond, Ira returned to Audumla and dragged her past the mouth's entrance. She had been a mother and a warrior, what better way to watch and care for those to come? Reaching the center of the field, the High Queen dug. Rocks and dirt were scraped away vigorously until she had achieved a shallow grave. It was as deep as she could muster with what energy she had left and just deep enough that she hoped for her to remain buried through time.
Carefully she pulled the body in and would begin the process of covering. By the time she had finished, the pinks of dawn brushed the horizon, bringing with it a new day at the cost of a life. “Selv om du ikke var vår egen, vil blodet ditt være det. Måtte gudene våke over deg.” Dragging one of the fallen stones, Ira shoved it atop the grave. The final touch to those who were honored, and a channel to those who still remained. “Your boy is safe now.”
With nothing left to say and weariness creeping into her bones, Ira turned tail from the fields and passed the gate to make her own passage home, and if she was lucky, catch some sleep for herself before the children's needs must be attended to.
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