ANOANA | scarlet circle v. dragons, day 2
Jul 2, 2022 18:47:09 GMT -5
Post by tick 12a / calla on Jul 2, 2022 18:47:09 GMT -5
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Freyr doesn't sleep.
Instead, he sits at Willem's feet with his back against the opening of the cave wall, and he counts the points of foreign constellations. He watches the light change into faces, into nothing, and then into stars again.
See, he had said to Gallows under the sound of the anthem, repeating himself with a tired sort of smugness, three is nothing.
And then the stars had bled across the sky like great tears, Gungnir leading the way and leaving streaks of orange and pink and purple in its wake.
There's a clearing that sits through the cave's mouth, wide enough to field an ambush but narrow enough that Freyr can watch the edges where the shadows creep.
It's what he does all night and well into the morning. The grass wavers along the river bed, hiding the distant sound of trickling water.
It would be peaceful, if not for the dragon.
There is a great roaring, the flapping of wings, glass breaking -
"Fáfnir." He breathes, and he knows.
The Aegishjalmur sits still in his mind's eye. He sees Sigurd and the dragon and the Helm of Awe - he'd drawn the rune and called them all to him.*
There should be no surprise then.
The sun shines through the creature and casts light shards onto the ground. It's ribcage cuts through the beams and makes little spots dance like faeries around Freyr's feet.
His hand has been wrapped around the sickle all night - it's easy to swing it once in a warning, gesturing for Lux to step forward first because if he's anything, it's not stupid.
A scuttling comes further in from the cave, like a hundred little knives scrambling against the rocks. Smaller dragons, no larger than his fist, come tumbling from the inner cavern. Towards their exposed backs.
"OUT!" He shouts, grabbing his bag and Willem's arm and shoving them both out of the cave.
The little dragons hit the air and spill upwards, spiralling up and up like a flock of dark birds.
The hair on the back of Freyr's neck rises as they all move, swooping out from the cave they'd wandered through no less than seven hours ago. He imagines the creatures waiting in the dark, hanging like bats from the ceiling while they had rested beneath them unawares.
The sickle turns in his hand, catching the sun that glints off the glass dragon.
"The little ones first."
title from heilung's anoana
freyr attacks the dragon horde | sickle (glaive)
l_R4aqVeEsglaive
[+9 +1 mutt tamer]
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