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overcast, cool breeze     Royal Wisterian Woodlands     Morning       Saatsine  Skjǫldrheim

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the black spear
Skjǫldrheim
Statistics
Species
wolf

Sex
amab (he/his)

Age
1 [9/4/2024]

Height
Very Tall

Weight
Average

Build
Stocky

Eyes
central heterochromia - inner amber, outer blue

Fur
navy blue, moon silver

Scent
incoming storm & blood

Oddities
gold 'fleck' on nose/muzzle

Mark of Mythris
None

Writer

Posts

Threads

The One Who Mocks
#1
 
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for Fa'liya; raven can be powerplayed ofc!

A golden-red woodland. As the sun begins its arc across the sky, the light filters through heaps of red-gold wisteria drapery to cast the air itself in a hazy gold and pink. Starkly night-sky blue, the Sun-eater stands out starkly against the backdrop. And against the otherwise introspective, secluded quiet of the leaves and flowers, the raven's call is similarly jarring.

The bird has not left him alone most of the morning. From branch to branch, poking its dark, ruffled head of feathers from the crimson florals to croak at Skoll before alighting to the air when the boy snaps at it.

Odin is displeased, he guesses. Well, hopefully that means that wherever Asgeir is, he's causing immeasurable headache and calamity for the One-Eyed. The idea puts a certain pep in Sverke's step, even though the raven's insistence grates on his nerves and eardrums. Sverke sprawls across a lichen-clad stone once quiet descends over the forest again, heaves a sigh. Little reprieve is given before an obsidian eye reflects the young fra Stjernene's visage back at him, surrounded by a sea of iridescent feathers. Instinct more than irritation makes Sverke's jaws snap before, but too late to do anything but close around the wind beat into life by the bird's wings. A draconian snort heaves from his lungs. Nästa gång, lille spion.

Asgeir is welcome in ANY of sverke's threads
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