Siguršr
IT IS BETTER TO STAND AND FIGHT. IF YOU
RUN YOU WILL ONLY DIE TIRED.
Gurgling. Spitting. Coughing. Siguršr struggled against the ocean's tight grasp, it drug and clung to him, trying to crush him beneath it's white capped waves. The night sky above him was lit by the occasional flash of lightning, then the deafening clap of thunder. He could feel each muscle in his body scream and protest as he fought with every fiber of his being to stay afloat. Torrential rains poured down over him adding to the chill that now seeped into his bones. Stubbornly he swam in the direction his family had disappeared hours before, not knowing if they could survive this onslaught that has overcame the warring party. His heart thundered in his chest as panic begins to overwhelm him. They could be dead. Every single one of them, drowned beneath the crushing weight of the ocean. Fadir, Skogsra, Skadi, and even Siobhan.
He swallowed down the fear that crept up into his throat. Now, was not the time to let those thoughts weigh him down OR he too would find himself at the bottom of the ocean.
Beneath the brooding heavens he willed his weary legs to continue to swim against the ocean's current - despite them feeling as if they were jelly. By the god's will he would find dry land once again and then after he has recovered he would seek out each of his family until they were all together once again. His heart quickened at the hope that he had cultivated in his mind. Yes, he would do just that.
ᛝ ᛝ ᛝ
He stumbles through the frothy surf and collapses on the dry sand just out of the ocean's reach. Wearily his sides heave and his nostrils flare with each breath that he gulps into his lungs. By Odin's beard he had found this solitary island in the midst of a vast ocean. He drew another breath into his quivering nostrils, he notices the arid, dry notes and the faint sweet scent of cacti. It is a familiar scent, one that he recognizes immediately. It was unlike the sweet dark pines of Tinuvel, or the earthy, woody scent of Luthien. He drew another breath.
A shiver racks his body as he tries to recover some strength. He does not know when the owner of this land will find him and chase him back into the sea. But for now, he will rest his weary bones.
ICELANDIC X - STALLION - SILVER GRULLO SABINO CHIMERA - FOURTEEN POINT THREE HANDS
of nowhere
