(349)backdated to 28 April. Almost dusk, at this point. :|
The gods smiled upon Siv Helsi.
She knew this, now, as she had never known it before. By giving them this land—by giving them this blood—she had pleased them. Her sense of security had been tested, but time and time again the raiders fell back. Now, with their allies to the east prepared for a final battle, it was time for her to wait. Patience was a gift that the dark woman held. It gave her no qualm to stand by, to bleed, and to watch as her so-called Family was torn apart from the inside.
Her ride back was split apart from the other two men, and carried her towards her home. Since Dragur’s departure from the place it had been very quiet, and she liked this. Aside from Hildr, Siv had no companions. The horse trotted on, worn from the trip and very much looking forward to respite. While not made for war, Siv’s suspicions about the horse’s origin had convinced her that Hildr was northern-bred. Foreign, like she was. Another sign that she had been right in coming here.
Even Reykr’s presence could not shake her. He was nothing to her, only another tool, and what he did or did not do when it came to her daughter (her, not their, and never his) was beyond her control. Siv had done all she could for the girl, and her training would go on further. It would take her years to become what Siv intended, but the training was meant for such a thing. The fact Dra had failed to ascend higher in the ranks was only further proof of some flaw that needed fixed.
Siv tended to Hildr quickly, removing her tack and wiping her down, but a true grooming could not take place. As she stepped away from the mare to go for one of these primitive combs a shape moved against the landscape. Her steps took her away from the small paddock and out towards him.“My Lord Hunter,” she greeted formally, purple eyes already carefully and subtly looking over his form.
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