3/9/2025, 8:08 AM
![[Image: Viv_Elli.gif]](https://sig.grumpybumpers.com/host/Viv_Elli.gif)
SKILL : - - - ( 1 / 5 )
She had been finding herself drawn away from Northfall's confines more and more after the celebration held in her grandfather's honor. It felt ill-suited in the wake of the "new king's" decision to turn their backs on the gods. They were not the ones who had paraded around among mortals and claimed false divinity - it was the previous queen who had done so, and even as all-consuming as Elli's rage was for her grandfather's murder was, it still remained squarely planted upon the one responsible for dumping Ragnar into the summit's maw.
Northfall felt less like a home with each passing day. Her brothers were there and it was all that kept her bound to it, but the temptation to leave grew even faster - so she pressed further and further away from the mountain's hold to be left alone with her thoughts.
There was nowhere more solitary than the ridge where Ragnar's own paws had last stood before he was cast into the frozen ravine.
Her mismatched paws came to a pause as she settled at the ledge, peering down into the chasm that served as his tomb. There had been enough snowfall over the course of the winter that she could no longer see his blonde fur. Like the sands of time, he was swallowed up by the world.
A numb sort of stoicism worked its way into her veins as she settled back onto her haunches, her muzzle tipped downward as she stared into the snowy abyss. As if only just remembering she had brought it with her, she dropped the deer antler she had extricated from a recent kill. The off-white horn fell far below unceremoniously, but she hoped the fight that led to bringing down her quarry would somehow please her grandfather, wherever he was within Valhalla.
She wondered if her father and grandmother were with him, too; Jasmine had not shared their northern heritage, but perhaps Valhalla would have permitted her entry all the same.
Northfall felt less like a home with each passing day. Her brothers were there and it was all that kept her bound to it, but the temptation to leave grew even faster - so she pressed further and further away from the mountain's hold to be left alone with her thoughts.
There was nowhere more solitary than the ridge where Ragnar's own paws had last stood before he was cast into the frozen ravine.
Her mismatched paws came to a pause as she settled at the ledge, peering down into the chasm that served as his tomb. There had been enough snowfall over the course of the winter that she could no longer see his blonde fur. Like the sands of time, he was swallowed up by the world.
A numb sort of stoicism worked its way into her veins as she settled back onto her haunches, her muzzle tipped downward as she stared into the snowy abyss. As if only just remembering she had brought it with her, she dropped the deer antler she had extricated from a recent kill. The off-white horn fell far below unceremoniously, but she hoped the fight that led to bringing down her quarry would somehow please her grandfather, wherever he was within Valhalla.
She wondered if her father and grandmother were with him, too; Jasmine had not shared their northern heritage, but perhaps Valhalla would have permitted her entry all the same.