A bird in the hand
Nov. 14th, 2020 10:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
It's been a little while since Atreus has been in the Nexus. Things are getting harrowing in his own world. Fimbulwinter, the long winter, has begun to sink it's icy fangs into Midgard, and the lad has been hard at work helping his father prepare for it as best they can. Foraging for nuts and mushroom, and any sort of edible bounty the Wildwoon of his home provides that can be dried or preserved to last a long time. Firewood chopped. The cabin fortified against the extremes of the weather. The runes that make the protective stave around their home strengthened. Not to mention the hordes of monsters and undead Odin still raised.
He's had a lot on his plate.
There's also always the ravens to look out for. Odin's eyes, little spies. Not even really birds anymore but empty flying husks. They made him sad killing them. It wasn't their fault that they were puppets for a terrible king. It was a raven that brought him back to the Nexus today in fact.
He captured one, wrestled a blinding hood usually used by falconers on it's head, and got it in a cage covered in runes meant to mask it's presence from Asgard. The runes of the stave in miniature. He then brought it to the Nexus. He'd hoped that bringing it somewhere outside of Odin's influence would... he wasn't really sure, perk it up? But so far it's eerily quiet.
He sets the cage down on a park bench and takes a step back to study it, a small frown tugging at his lips. This is a bigger puzzle then he'd expected. He should have figured it wouldn't be easy though.
"I wonder... can something be so broken it just can't be fixed?"
To those who can sense magic and maybe even those who can't, the bird feels dark and creepy and wrong. For those who can sense thoughts or emotions... the bird while clearly living just seems empty. Nothing in it, no feeling, no song. Once again, very wrong.
He's had a lot on his plate.
There's also always the ravens to look out for. Odin's eyes, little spies. Not even really birds anymore but empty flying husks. They made him sad killing them. It wasn't their fault that they were puppets for a terrible king. It was a raven that brought him back to the Nexus today in fact.
He captured one, wrestled a blinding hood usually used by falconers on it's head, and got it in a cage covered in runes meant to mask it's presence from Asgard. The runes of the stave in miniature. He then brought it to the Nexus. He'd hoped that bringing it somewhere outside of Odin's influence would... he wasn't really sure, perk it up? But so far it's eerily quiet.
He sets the cage down on a park bench and takes a step back to study it, a small frown tugging at his lips. This is a bigger puzzle then he'd expected. He should have figured it wouldn't be easy though.
"I wonder... can something be so broken it just can't be fixed?"
To those who can sense magic and maybe even those who can't, the bird feels dark and creepy and wrong. For those who can sense thoughts or emotions... the bird while clearly living just seems empty. Nothing in it, no feeling, no song. Once again, very wrong.