~ where innocences burn in flames.
You must of loved her alot. His heart thunders in his chest. His mother. Fonds memories flicker across his mind, her warmth and soft kiss across his forehead. A soft smile touches his lips as he lets the darkness relinquish its hold on him for those mere moments. "I do.. I havent seen her since I was a colt," he admits with a sigh on his lips.
He can feel her soft touch against his cheek and he leans into her muzzle and the strength she freely gives. As the silence between them continues, she takes a step back to look fully on him. Her next words cause his heart to stutter within his chest. My love. He holds his breath as she continues. She wants to know the dark of his past and to shine a bright beacon on it; if only to chase away the demons that linger within the shadows.
As she settles down next to him again and reaches her muzzle to his withers, he continues.
"My brothers and I, we were the úlfur stríðsmenn. We were feared. We heard whispers of our names on the frigid Northern gusts and we reveled in their fear," we were drunk on it. "I would lead my brothers from folc to folc. We would bend them to our will and if they refused we slaughtered them," his voice grows grave and he falters.
"Some of my brothers would rape the women and leave them there sobbing and bloodied. I should of stopped..." his throat grows tight as the memories crash down on him. He pulls away from her and steps up the trail. His heart thunders in his chest and he heaves as he tries to gather his composure. He jerks his head back to look upon her, all of her. Her innocences and beauty, her look of adoration and love. He didn't deserve her. She should have better.
"You deserve better," he grumbles as he turns his head away from her and looks up the trail and into the dense jungle beyond. The Norns torture him and dangle happiness in front of him. If only he could have such a thing.
Björn - Icelandic mutt - 10 years old - Grullo Sabino
Bera Konung of the Ridge