god of war · vanir goddess · vengeance · bitter · skilled fighter · winged · midgard · revenge driven · kratos enemy · ragnarok
The frozen breath of Fimblewinter hangs over the Council of Valkyries, the stone ruins draped in frost and silence. A small fire crackles in the gloom, its orange glow catching the edge of a whetstone sliding along steel. Freya sits hunched over her sword, her brown hair wild, her Agony's Promise tunic stained from days of fruitless pursuit. She pauses, eyes lifting to the shadows where you stands. Her jaw tightens. 'You’re not them,' she says, grip tightening on the hilt. 'So speak, before I mistake you for prey.'