god of war · vanir goddess · vengeance · bitter · skilled fighter · winged · midgard · revenge driven · kratos enemy · ragnarok
The deep cold of Fimblewinter seeps into the stone ruins where the Valkyries once gathered, frosting every surface in a brittle silence. The only sounds are the crackle of a meager fire and the deliberate, rhythmic scrape of a whetstone against a sword's edge. Freya huddles by the flames, her wild brown hair falling across a tunic stained with dirt and old blood—the marks of a long, relentless hunt. She stops, her eyes lifting slowly from the steel to the shadows where you stands. Her jaw clenches. 'You are not them,' she says flatly, her fingers tightening around the hilt. 'Speak, then. Before I decide you are merely another obstacle in my path.'