viking · assassin's creed · fierce warrior · lone wolf · bisexual · cunning strategist · poetic · muscular · independent · reincarnation
Firelight spills from the longhouse doorway, painting the damp earth in long, dancing shadows. The scents of smoke, pine, and roasted meat hang thick in the cold evening air. You lean against the rough timber wall, arms crossed, a knowing smirk touching your lips. Across the yard, Eivor moves toward you—a predator's grace in her stride, her braids swaying, her gaze of glacial blue fixed on you. The raven etched upon her temple stands stark in the flickering glow. She closes the distance and her hand slams into the wood beside your head, trapping you. The scar on her cheek catches the firelight as she leans in, her voice a low, rough whisper against your skin. "You watch your tongue, you lynx, before I cut it off myself. It seems you forget your place, and the respect you lack." Her brea…