5/4/2025, 4:15 AM
gjalla didn’t startle when he stepped into view, though not for lack of intimidation. the wind curled between them, threading through her mane and lifting a few loose curls from the curve of her jaw. she stood still as stone, but periwinkle eyes caught him with needlepoint precision. big man, built like an ox with the face of a fearsome bear.
she could smell the blood on him before the wind shifted. his maw was no longer tainted by it, but he was. it's not stale, but not recent enough to matter. her nostrils flared once. he was made of old things, this one. she recognized it the same way a blade knows another when their edges meet. scarred lips, hulking posture. ghost, carved from meat and memory.
gjalla’s head tilted slightly, mane tumbling along the curve of her throat. her tail gave a slow flick, more acknowledgment than invitation (not rejection, either). she said nothing. let the silence settle thick again. it did not choke her. it never had.
finally, her chin lifted. something ancient flickered behind her eyes, beckoning. not flame nor fury, ice-cold and scalding in the same breath. well?
she could smell the blood on him before the wind shifted. his maw was no longer tainted by it, but he was. it's not stale, but not recent enough to matter. her nostrils flared once. he was made of old things, this one. she recognized it the same way a blade knows another when their edges meet. scarred lips, hulking posture. ghost, carved from meat and memory.
gjalla’s head tilted slightly, mane tumbling along the curve of her throat. her tail gave a slow flick, more acknowledgment than invitation (not rejection, either). she said nothing. let the silence settle thick again. it did not choke her. it never had.
finally, her chin lifted. something ancient flickered behind her eyes, beckoning. not flame nor fury, ice-cold and scalding in the same breath. well?