Her words float on the frigid winter's breath, dancing playfully around his erect fuzzy ears. Words that are meant only for him. A mischievous glint fills his glacial eyes. "Believe me, I must," his voice just barely audible above the gust of the frigid wind.
As she presses herself into him, he can feel the heat of her body against his, the soft thud of her heart against her ribs, and quiver of her supple skin. "You should be more than that, ice maiden," he says with a playful raise of his own brow.
How easy it was for him to just let the past few days disappear into the frigid air, with a gust, the wind takes them into the heavy snow laden clouds that hang ominously overhead. He can feel the tension leave the muscles of shoulders, allowing him to sigh a deep breath of relief.
For a moment he can let the anxiety of yesterday slip away, to just be here in this moment with this mischievous girl. To feel her body against his and to let it all slip away. "What brings you to the Isles, Ciardha Queen of nought?" he questions as a smirk traces his whiskered lips.
Translation:
mín fegurð: my beauty
Icelandic mutt - Grullo Sabino - Stallion - 14.3 hh
Bera Konung of the Ridge
brother to Ivar & Lagertha