(--)
Draugr is by Requiem!
She saw, in her minds eye, these things her mother described. They were as vivid as if she'd been there, witness to all the magic and the myth herself. Some words made her shiver -- Yggdrasil, Ragnarök, Mímir, Futhark -- but this was a good sort of shiver, an enjoyable sort. Faraway, the dark-furred wolfdog hardly felt the pull and yank as her mother worked through the knots of her hair. It might as well have been a different body entirely; Draugr's mind and spirit were swept away in the words of the tale. Even as her mother began moving around the room, the wolfdog's gaze did not follow. Her eyes were half-lidded, drawn into the world mama Siv's words wove.
When the voice was quiet, it took a moment, but Draugr opened her eyes again, seeming almost surprised to find her mother beside her rather than behind her. It was then that she understood the meaning of the story: too drawn into the imagining and dreaming, she'd almost missed it. But it was there now, almost so plain to see it made her smile, pearly teeth gleaming against the dark of her muzzle and lips.
If I do not need to hurt to know something, it is not worth knowing, she concluded, sure of the correctness of this meaning, but still meek in the presence of her mother. I will give all to know. This was spoken more fervently, almost insistently. She might never be ready for so great sacrifice as Odin made, but if that was the case, she would prefer to die trying than live with the knowledge of failure.
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