Valkyrie's Call

For @Lóki

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The tide of the land was beginning to shift with time. Sindri could feel it on the seaside breeze as she retreated from her home and into the open rolling hills of the Moors. This landscape once of brown and golden grasses now held a new bloom, the grass green and fresh and the beginnings of tiny purple-pink blooms started to sprout from the earth.

Sindri smiled upon it. Not only was the Alpine Moors an easy passage between the north and the south (much as the evergreen forest was to the east) which would bring travelers but it was also a plentiful place for grazers, rabbit and other small rodents. Though there was plenty of hunting opportunities along the coast and within the mountains, such game was for expects in their trade. It wasn't easy navigating the cliffside or withstanding the coastal tides.

Along the outskirts of her home at the eastern border, Sindri was not far out from the forest which lined there. No herds had wandered under the safety of the forest this day but she was hopefully of a prize all the same. She trotted along the hillside, up and down the slopes, her bright yellow eyes searching...
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How pathetically idyllic the flowers seem to glisten under the dimming sun. How grotesquely peaceful they waved within the breeze. As the winds whispered in from both north and south. When a strong gust blew, the dark male lifted his head and squinted against the glare of the sun. He could smell the salt upon the breeze and the telltale signs if warmer days ahead. A small grunt flared from his nostrils. How he hated Summer. Warmth. It drew his energy, made him lethargic. He much preferred the frost.

Crunch. Small bones crackled under the pressure of his jaws. He happily devoured his small prize. The rabbit’s body was soon stripped into barebones and gristle. Blood stained his maw and paws. What an unearthly sight.

Dark ears flickered at the rythmic paw steps of another. Quick, a light trot. With a sigh, he continued to gnaw and crunch away at his pleasure. He wondered whether the stranger would dare strike up a conversation with him?

@Sindri
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Sindri could smell the rabbits near. She lowered her head, nose to work at the many little knolls along the rolling landscape. Here, there were many areas for a rabbit, mole, mongoose or the like to call home. Sindri didn't spot any, however, as they all seemed to be into hiding. Soon, the smell of rabbit also came with blood of rabbit. Ah, no wonder- the land had been recently hunted upon.

Sindri's sunflower eyes narrowed and her head lifted. The lands Northfall called their hunting grounds but as said, it was also a passage way for travelers. Northfall was not yet in a position to run hunting travelers out in favor of food over members. Right now, recruits meant much for Sindri.

So, when her bright eyes met that of an acidic green, she did not immediately give chase. He was a tall and slender fellow, dark and his gaze judging as Sindri's own. She snorts at the other who looked to her now. “Enjoying yourself, are you?” Her northern-thick tones sarcastically spilt. There would be no hunt here for her today.
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His dark (and often named "silver") tongue rasped over his matted, bloody maw. The coppery taste still slipped down his throat. Stringy meat clung betwixt his canines. How he despised small game. How brittle the bones were, how stringy and tough the sparse meat was. But alas, it was substenance and would do him for a day or so before moving onto richer lands... hopefully he could bag himself a young fawn, if he played his cards right.

“Enjoying yourself, are you?”  Casually, his dark ear flickered. He did not indulge the sarcastic stranger with his gaze, instead he opted to nibble and clean his large, golden-tinted paws. "Oh quite!" His tone was laced with disinterest and boredom. A small sigh flared through his nostrils, hissing akin to a snake. Her scent carried through the wind, one of the north. Gold-flecked meadow eyes squinted. It was clear that she did not simply want to make a passing comment, no. He noted slender cream paws and as he lifted his gaze to scour the stranger before him, he was met with bright yellow eyes. "Sorry, this carcass is taken." A snort. "Unless you insist, then I may spare you the scraps of bones?" A small twist of amusement danced upon his lips and curled his features. 

@Sindri
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If he thought he was so silver-tongued he would be mistaken, at least in these moments. There was nothing charming or slick about him savor the velvety smooth texture of his coat.

He regarded her with disinterest, the same manner which Sindri did with many others until she struck. He licked clean his golden paws and finally a masked face of that same golden color turned lazily into her direction.

He snorted. She scoffed, her tail flicking out to the side with irritation like a cat might and then it rose, high to her backside like a banner instead. “No, that will not do.” She spoke with a little sigh and took a few light steps closer to him. “But a chunk of your own might.” And then she would lunge at him there while settled, to bite him at that pretty little face of his.
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Many were indeed put off by his sarcasm, either inherently disturbed or bored. It was rare that another would delight his ego and try to play. “No, that will not do.”  Indeed, she was of the latter. Disinterest, paired with a flicker of irritation danced within her light, golden orbs. "Fine," He grunted, tongue sweeping over his dark jaws once more. "'Tis not a hearty meal." Indeed, it would be enough to last him a moon cycle or two, if he did not push himself so much in physical activity. 

But, the hairs upon his nape stood. A gnawing within his stomach turned to flared defence as paw steps precariously edged closer. The tips of his canines bore into the light, lips curling over his miniscule meal. “But a chunk of your own might.” A snarl was his retort as his body instinctively braced for impact. 

He had to give it to her, she was quick and ballsy; to attack a lone male, seemingly with no motive. Was this simply for dominance? Or something more? The power he felt behind her attack suggested so. His dark ears pinned, as he was thrown to the ground under her weight. Yet, he would forcefully throw his paws upwards and aim for her throat, or chest: anywhere to stagger her, while his jaws aimed for her own, perhaps if he clamped down hard enough, he would be able to shake her. Indeed, his canines were able to peirce flesh, the trickle of fresh coppery blood danced warmly upon his silver tongue. 

(Let me know if this needs editing.)





@Sindri
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Your good! I tried to clarify his and her positions in my post so let me know if I got it right!

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Though into physical activity she would push him, to drain the livelihood of the loner. He would either run as he knew what was best for him- to not get injured without any place to settle, rest and heal or he would fight back, bold and defiant despite what was best for him. Because he didn't fear death over the fear of defeat. 

She was sucessful in making her mark as she had lunged forward and attacked at his face. Though she felt a warmth of blood in her mouth, she did not have the time to access the damage she had done. Hopefully not too much, she'd hate to permanently mark his pretty face.

In his laid position he would retort by lifting his front paws, trying to shove her quickly away from him as he did so in order to return the space between them. He did so, causing the little woman to stumble back and try and jump away. She was a swift and light woman, not a powerhouse. As he pushed at her he would follow with jaws, aiming at her own delicate facial features. Already being pushed away, she moves to further increase the space as his front small teeth cut her cheek.

She hisses and bounds around, circling him quickly to one side and then jumping and moving around the other way. She is trying to slow him down, confuse him and if she can, just because she could, steal what was left of his rabbit and dart off.
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Drip, drip. Deep crimson droplets splashed onto the blossoming violet flowers, tarnishing the bright hues that danced under the dimming sun. It was enough to suggest that he meant business. He was not someone to mess with... yet it was a shame that he could not leave her with a more... permanent scar. Yet there was still time. 

The pale female hissed, much like a viper she recoiled her attack and swung on the defensive. But alas, Loki was a machiavellian, he knew the game well. And while he would grant her some time, amusing while it was... she would not out smart him. She wisped around him in a flurry of cream and white and he caught onto her intentions. Wide gold-flecked mossy eyes widened, swiftly aiming to clasp the gnawed carcass. It swing limply between his jaws, as his head uplifted; looking down upon her with a disapproving glare. Yet it would not stop the curve of his dark lips to twitch into a small smirk. "Almost, little bird." He muttered between full jaws. 

He had to give it to her, at least she was somewhat entertaining, it was a joy to watch her determination dwindle and remarkably predictable plan fail. 

@Sindri
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Damnit! The growling hiss left her jaws and she glared at him threw slit eyes of sun. He grasp the hare and lifted it high, out of reach for the little woman who was seething below.

Alas, her eyes shot to the open throat which he now had but did not go for this directly. No, she didn't want the prince of mischief dead. Instead, while his mouth was very much already occupied, the woman whipped around behind so that she might grab a mouthful of that slim-cut ass of his.
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The kill felled to the ground and Loki taking his walk of shame as he then turned around, his eyes would be met with a now prideful Sindri. Her head and tail held high, a 'humph' on her lips as she came forward, standing now in front of the mostly eaten rabbit.

“You should have known better.” She said in response to his last words, a playful laughter on her bloodied lips. It was odd to some how happy she was after a scuffle and the taste of iron on her tongue.

Licking her lips and moving her haunches down to a sit, she inquired... “Who are you anyway?” Said as she eyed the black and golden wolf up and down.
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To his surprise, she did not attack. There was no sign of aggression anymore, no; the furious fire within her quelled and a rather dare he deign happy brightness glistened within her gaze. Colour him intrigued, perhaps she was a warrior and lived for the thrill of battle. It was enough to make him scoff... his brother had been the exact same and it had lead to his downfall. Like most, they fell too quickly, headfirst into the flames without considering the scorn. “You should have known better." He allowed her such victory. A scoff flared from his nostrils. "Please. I simply let you win." Golden-green eyes shone with mischief as he offered the woman a wink. In all truth, perhaps he had. "I felt sorry for you." He opted further, adding a small pout to emphasise his sarcasm. 

He watched her intently as she sat, fully relaxed. She was half the fool to think he would not try something else... but he was of course too prideful to fully scrap over a half-mangled carcass. “Who are you anyway?”  Golden brows rose as she tried to judge him. How rude of him; not to bellow his name! "They call me Loki." Well, after a flawless victory she did so deserve it. "And yourself? Or would you like me to keep the little nickname I have for you?" The corners of his mouth curled into a smirk.

@Sindri
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A scoff, a wink, as he insisted that he had let her win, that he had felt sorry for her. She snorts, rather unlady-like and laughs at the fake pout which he offers her in feigning he had lost on purpose. Yeah right. This scrawny youngster was no match for her. She was viking and he was...

“Loki hu?” A peachy brow rose as she assessed him further. Surely he was named after the God and as such, fell into the persona of him with ease. Sindri did not think to consider he believed himself to be the actual God, fallen from Asgard. After all, they already had Freya. Coming upon another God, especially one of Sindri's own beliefs.... nah, surely not.

“Sindri Swiftkill will do just fine, thank you.” She spoke with a little snap of her bloodied jaws. “Tell me, Loki,” She mused back onto his name, “Were your parents believers of the Norse Gods then?”
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Emerald eyes gleamed as he watched her. Yes many mocked, many called his parents pretentious. Many simply did not have the brains to understand. It was pitiful, he made short work of such fools.

He gleaned a name, at least. Swiftkill. He rolled her last name upon his tongue that purred. I wonder what you did to gain that moniker? A scoff flared from dark nostrils. Yet she used it against him, prodding further. Quite so, a hefty sigh. Some say they took their faith a little too literally. But we shall never know. He added with a wistful sigh. Nor did he want to know.

They were nothing to him now, a fragment of nothing but dust in a history book.

@Sindri
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Swiftkill, yes. When he questioned where she might have gained such a title, the little peaches and cream woman could not help but roll those golden eyes. Surely such a title was obvious and he was teasing her- as so was fitting to his namesake.

“Keep wondering.” She only said on it, allowing him to spin his wheels if he so desired. “There is a Freya that lives with us.” She pauses, jutting her muzzle in the direction of the mountains, just over there. “In Northfall.” Then back to him. “I'd think you'd fit in just fine, if you'd care to join us, oh God of Mischief.”
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