In its endurance of spoken word to written passage, stories of old often become mere fable or myth. Another addendum to the tediously long list of evolving culture within a people. Whether they be based on actual events in history, perhaps fanciful lies to either deceive or teach. To warn or entertain. Such tales possess some granular salt of truth, as their birth must germinate from somewhere... Someone... At sometime...
Solveig Mundil, one of the youngest generation of her family lineage. Ancestral blood ties to 'Southernly' elves with 'Northernmost' jotuns dashed into an egg of a time-wise clan, who arched their necks back to gaze upon the stars. A twin, sibling to a seldom heard Mana Mundil, her fiery hair of the sheep slayer radiated a warmth compared to the brother's cooler tones of the eclipsed moon. Not that said huldu kept himself cold to his own womb-kin. They in fact shared much with one another; turning another's weak luck to wax in glorious strength.
Yet, this child of Whim felt the burning coals of Wham in her solitude. Well, apart from the echoes of one's own voice vibrating along hugin. They were just reflections, rays of her sunlight which their desires seek to turn misfortune of those of 'Campment and 'coon-kin into firmer good luck.
Whereas the huldra laid amongst her own munin said sounds stood no better than shrieks of a feathered Unkindness. She could feel Mana still alive out somewhere... Both far and near... Pain of once believing him to be lost, then silenced under rubble... Only to then to consider that her kin must be under some sort of delusion to not finally reveal himself on one of these fortnights-
Adrenaline spat its venom deep in her boiling blood; a quick prompt of the huldra to alert. Could that be him‽ Solveig experienced brief day-dreams of this late evening encounter, plague with grand suspense. "Mana‽ Mana!" the knight's voice wailed out to the dark skies. Sitting out by the porch step of the Mad God's Temple had to just blessed the frantic huldra now! Solveig would want to deliver a potent prayer and sacrifice to the unconscious Au'Marui for his divine assistance-
"Why didn't you stop Skathi?"
... Dread... Deep Fear, transmuting into seething Rage. Her sight, not in need for aura view, envisioned the wretched state of the huldu shambling from the trees. Stone debris flaked off his ragged blue tunic. Once beautiful crimson hair matted down with splotches of aged blood... And rotten flesh juices...
"I can't see you... Sister... Where are you?"
Bind in totality of sensation to light for skin, the missing windows of the soul stood barren. Though his living sister could not interpret in her state of mind at the time, even in a rational state would be uncertain of what this was? Was this corpse of Mana a confused after-walker of death, or the deceptive cannibal ghoul? Did she fall into a night-terror, with her strained heart coughing miasma into her clouded thoughts? ... Did Mana become a thrall to the summoner who wielded that necrotic horde?
"M-Mana! I-I d-didn't. S-s-s-she-"
With range of land narrowed to where the huldra stood alone this unnatural night. the mutilated flesh writhed with altered passion. A corrupted light of Draupnir's dripping dew first streamed from the corpse's gaping sockets... Eyes-seats and teeth-wielder gaped in the steadily searing heat. The former Wyrd sect huldu's hollow back unfurled a new skin for this undead beast: a wild hound of blood. "No," the huldra breathed in near silent terror. A lone maiden in path of the wolf.
Solveig could not move, whether be from the deaded motion of a mind, or the locked nerves of instinct. Nothing but a frightened red vixen of the sun who succumbed to the consuming gate of doom.
April Fools you silly Coolpikaaa! xD
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