08-06-2008, 05:44 PM
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Hel stared out to sea, as if the moving waves could give her some sort of answer. She tried to imagine herself telling Styx about the pregnancy in a million different ways, none of which were right. She tried to imagine herself back home. Her father, Loki, with his stone-like appearance and mother Angrboda, with her obsession for subtle death and plotting. She was a part of their world. Looking down at her arrows, she realised that no matter how far she fled, she would always be in their world. Their grip on her, her parents', her brothers', would never waver. Resolve hardened in her. They would always be her family. Just like she would always be a fighter, a warrior, a killer.
The smell hit her nostrils before the sound made her ears perk up. Before his voice sounded in the relative silence, broken only by the crashing waves on the shore. She turned around suddenly, the hood falling off her head. Piercing blue eyes stared at the wolf before her. She noticed the weary look of him, the dust, the backpack, the lack of scent. A loner. She knew that she smelled of Styx, but wondered how much Phoenix Valley had rubbed off on her. Getting to her feet, Hel tried to steady her heartbeats. He too had a weapon. A crossbow. It was that which troubled her. So far, she had not seen anyone with such knowledge of weaponry. Keeping her voice steady, she replied, Arrows. I'm making arrows.
Hel stared out to sea, as if the moving waves could give her some sort of answer. She tried to imagine herself telling Styx about the pregnancy in a million different ways, none of which were right. She tried to imagine herself back home. Her father, Loki, with his stone-like appearance and mother Angrboda, with her obsession for subtle death and plotting. She was a part of their world. Looking down at her arrows, she realised that no matter how far she fled, she would always be in their world. Their grip on her, her parents', her brothers', would never waver. Resolve hardened in her. They would always be her family. Just like she would always be a fighter, a warrior, a killer.
The smell hit her nostrils before the sound made her ears perk up. Before his voice sounded in the relative silence, broken only by the crashing waves on the shore. She turned around suddenly, the hood falling off her head. Piercing blue eyes stared at the wolf before her. She noticed the weary look of him, the dust, the backpack, the lack of scent. A loner. She knew that she smelled of Styx, but wondered how much Phoenix Valley had rubbed off on her. Getting to her feet, Hel tried to steady her heartbeats. He too had a weapon. A crossbow. It was that which troubled her. So far, she had not seen anyone with such knowledge of weaponry. Keeping her voice steady, she replied, Arrows. I'm making arrows.