07-29-2008, 10:13 AM
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He's so awesome
![[Image: header.jpg]](http://i255.photobucket.com/albums/hh154/emotasticpickles/header.jpg)
Hel straightened herself and brushed some dust off her cloak. She knew she seemed impressive for a female and her weapons did not put anyone at ease. She thought, for a moment, of her brothers, of Jormundgand and Fenrir, who were strong. The last time she had seen one of them, he was growing into the fighter their father had sworn they would be. He was tough, his muscles like sinew, his gaze cold and unwavering. For one moment, she had almost not recognised him, so changed did he seem to her. And now, to this stranger, she must have been a threat come out of the fog, with her weapons and her size. I did not mean to frighten you, I have no intention of harming anyone here.
She walked closer, her hands clear of the knives, though she knew that if he tried anything she could take him down easily. She would not bat an eyelid at protecting herself. She even gave him a small smile, a reassurance, really, that she would not do anything to hurt him. Unless he tried to attack her, of course. My name is Natt. I have come a long way and my journey has not been pleasant. I am a merchant by trade, I sell cloth, clothes and jewellery to those who wear such items. Is this your pack? Hel had long polished the story. The name, the trade, the clothes and beads, the excuse for the knives, the pleasant attitude, the smiles, the curteous nods. She would ask about joining policies, she would guide the discussion towards Connor, saying he was a cousin, their aunt, his mother, had perished and she, last of their pack, had taken to the road to find him. So they could grieve. Hel smiled inwardly. Truly, Loki would be proud of her.
He's so awesome
Hel straightened herself and brushed some dust off her cloak. She knew she seemed impressive for a female and her weapons did not put anyone at ease. She thought, for a moment, of her brothers, of Jormundgand and Fenrir, who were strong. The last time she had seen one of them, he was growing into the fighter their father had sworn they would be. He was tough, his muscles like sinew, his gaze cold and unwavering. For one moment, she had almost not recognised him, so changed did he seem to her. And now, to this stranger, she must have been a threat come out of the fog, with her weapons and her size. I did not mean to frighten you, I have no intention of harming anyone here.
She walked closer, her hands clear of the knives, though she knew that if he tried anything she could take him down easily. She would not bat an eyelid at protecting herself. She even gave him a small smile, a reassurance, really, that she would not do anything to hurt him. Unless he tried to attack her, of course. My name is Natt. I have come a long way and my journey has not been pleasant. I am a merchant by trade, I sell cloth, clothes and jewellery to those who wear such items. Is this your pack? Hel had long polished the story. The name, the trade, the clothes and beads, the excuse for the knives, the pleasant attitude, the smiles, the curteous nods. She would ask about joining policies, she would guide the discussion towards Connor, saying he was a cousin, their aunt, his mother, had perished and she, last of their pack, had taken to the road to find him. So they could grieve. Hel smiled inwardly. Truly, Loki would be proud of her.