5/28/2025, 12:44 AM
geirmundr didn’t speak— he never did in moments like this. his breath was shaped by the hunt and the woman at his flank who moved as though born to this rhythm. when she gave her signal, he gave his own: a low shift of his shoulder, the barest turn of his head, gaze locking to hers.
the fawn, yes. mercy cloaked in swiftness.
he adjusted course like a glacier shifting— silent, sure, and inevitable. his weight dipped into his haunches, steadying as he took one step, then another, until only the final stretch lay between them and the kill. a nod, small and sharp. now.
the fawn, yes. mercy cloaked in swiftness.
he adjusted course like a glacier shifting— silent, sure, and inevitable. his weight dipped into his haunches, steadying as he took one step, then another, until only the final stretch lay between them and the kill. a nod, small and sharp. now.