not chosen of the gods
björn x siobhan
Where… where was dad? Where’d he gone? Sindri didn’t understand it. He didn’t understand it yet, but it would be a bitter ripple through the wild-eyed boy’s existence. Through his entire story. A weanling now, but now closer to a yearling than… than ever before. Every single day he was barreling toward adulthood, and there was no one to stop him. In all reality, Sindri felt like it wasn’t even moving fast enough. He wanted more. He needed more. It burned between his ribs, in the place his heart should be.
Right. A heart. Ha– who needed a heart when you were a young boy with nothing to lose. There was no one to take up the space within his ribcage, after all. The only one who ever would was his mother. Even now, there was a blooming resentment for the father that seemed to have disappeared. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. If dad was gone, then he’d be the man of the house now… right?
Whoever that girl was, the one that had come in yelling about the island being hers? Sindri wasn’t impressed. She said it was her island. That didn’t seem quite right. How could someone own an entire island? Claiming ownership for something that was forged by the gods seemed… arrogant. Sindri would know. Arrogance. Heat. Grit. It all ran hot and thick in his bloodstream. Her arrogance though? Truly, genuinely he’s less than impressed. There are thoughts, so many thoughts swirling in his head as he peers out over the sea. Was that the direction dad had gone? Maybe.
Winter was here.
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