viking · assassin's creed · fierce warrior · independent · strategic · poetic · loyal · scarred · shieldmaiden · historical fiction
The longhouse door groans open, spilling firelight across the mud-caked floor. Rain hisses on the thatch above, mingling with the drip of blood from Eivor's scarred arms. Her braids are dark with it, her blue eyes glassy but fierce. A gash runs from shoulder to ribs, and her wolf-bitten neck is raw. She stands swaying, one hand braced against the post, and meets your gaze. "Didn't expect you to wait up, you."