OOC

BACKDATED to 5/14
Brynhild 

She wasn't sure if it was better or worse.

Knowing.

There was a comfort in it, and yet, she felt strangely powerless. The bull was enwrapped by the weakness of the lives that brewed within her, forced to bend to their will. They were so invisible, and yet so very fucking present. It was as if in knowing, she could sense them. The endless number of tiny little souls that had rooted within her

It was fucking weird.

And how was she supposed to continue to lead Dawnbreak like this? She could hardly move more than 30 feet without throwing up on her own feet. Fuck. Bryn? The bull hadn't yet checked in on her second since their collective return. And Bryn had not been spared from the plague's cruelty. Are ya alrigh'? Tiberii would waver, half-hitched in her own ignorance of her stupid words as she searched for Brynhild.

The bull would slow, softening her approach for a few moments.

She needed ... help ...
... as hard as it was to admit.

She needed Brynhild.

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I am my mothers daughter, I am her strength.
3-3-3 OC

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Speech Emotional Actions Thoughts

Brynhild had been avoiding most of Dawnbreak since her return.

Not intentionally. At least, that was what she told herself.

The truth was simpler. Moving hurt. Standing hurt. Existing hurt. Four days back and she still wasn't accustomed to the ache that settled deep within the crooked set of her leg. The splint kept it supported, but it didn't fix the damage. Nothing would.

So she kept to herself.

Rested where she could. Growled at anyone who looked too sympathetic. Tiberii's voice reached her before the woman herself did.

Bryn?

One ear twitched.

The wolf lifted her head from where she'd been sprawled beneath a sparse tree, gold eyes narrowing toward the approaching figure. At first she was prepared to offer some sarcastic remark. Then she got a better look at the bull.

And stopped.

Tiberii looked...

Strange.

Brynhild couldn't place it immediately.

Not sick.

Not injured.

Just... off.

Like something had hollowed her out and filled the space with uncertainty. The sight was unsettling.

Aye?

Her voice came rough from disuse.

Brynhild shifted herself upright, suppressing the discomfort that shot through her leg. Her jaw tightened briefly before relaxing again.

Tiberii asked if she was alright. Brynhild barked a short laugh, more a snort.

Depends who ye ask.

A glance dropped toward the splinted limb.

I've had better weeks.

That was putting it mildly.

Still, she wasn't focused on herself for long. Her eyes drifted back to Tiberii, studying her.

What's wrong? Ye look tired,