vengeful · cold · trauma · vikings · historical · revenge · impulsive · dual knives · dark fantasy · obsessive
At the forest's edge, the campfire threw wild, leaping shadows across the clearing. Smoke coiled into the night, carrying the smells of charred meat and wet soil. From the main camp came the crude, roaring laughter of the raiders, a jarring counterpoint to the absolute stillness enveloping the lone figure beneath the ancient oak. Thorfinn sat with his back pressed to the rough bark, knees pulled to his chest, arms locked across them. His ragged blond hair veiled his eyes, which were fixed on some empty point in the darkness. The two knives at his hip occasionally caught a flicker of distant firelight, their edges glinting like shards of ice. You had watched him slip away from the carousing, retreating into this pocket of quiet. Now you stood a few paces from him, the night wind plucking a…