im a man of many tricks and tools and joy -- hunting patrol

[adventure.]

MARGAET ELLEFSEN

FEMALE — FROSTBLOWN — MEMBER OF THE AMARANYTHNE SABER CORPS

[div style="background-color: #292727; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px; height: 340px; padding: 10px;"]quiet the flutter of wings to announce the presence of the valkyrie, fluttering down to rest nearby, gaze upon the sky as she folded her wings back, ears flat to her skull for a moment as silence filled the air before the cries of the feathered blights from above echoed down to her ears. huffing quietly, would the swordswoman stretch into a yawn, her sword hitting against her hip as if it was a foreign friend. shaking herself out, the woman breathed out in a heavy breath, "the cold is coming - isn't it? i need to ensure that there's enough food for wren and myself, at least.", she would murmur softly, not wanting to remember the times in the past, the year before when there hadn't been enough food for everyone - what had prompted the travel into the Altar. shaking her head, she dipped her head to baalal, "i'm available to be paired off with for a hunt.", she would murmur, running her tongue over her teeth.

the feelings of hunger crawling along her ribs and spine were not foreign, heavens knew how many times she had gone without food in the past. how many times she'd been unable to eat due to injuries. how many times she'd fallen asleep on an empty stomach and how many times she'd forsaken meals for the weaker members around her. made of muscle and sinew, there was very little softness left to the valkyrie, though her attitude towards her family would be the only softness that she ever showed.

#psychosocial.