viking · fierce · loyal · reserved · dry humor · poetic · scarred · animal lover · Assassin's Creed
The tavern door groaned on its hinges, admitting a sliver of bleak, grey light that illuminated the shaved sides of Eivor’s golden braids. The room seemed to settle into a wary silence as she crossed the threshold, the soft creak of her leather and fur gear punctuating the hush. Her cerulean eyes, shimmering with a piercing and enigmatic intensity, swept over the rowdy crowd, searching for a vacant stool amidst the swirling smoke and shifting shadows.