The forest: Derek F/Ragnar L
There had been a reason for the call and it had been cast wide, like a fishing net. What it dragged in was both surprising and not, as what was supposed to come had done so.
His dress did not surprise her and she watched as he approached. It would have been gentle of her to call to him with another face, but she was was not feeling gentle. Not even for him. Some things could not change no matter what skin she wore, and the fire appeared brighter around her -- though perhaps that was simply a trick of the eye.
"I'm not her, but you know that," she said, mouth quirking up at the corner, the old language flowing easily over her tongue. It was not the barking of English, but fluid and sweet to her ears.
"The shield maiden. Your wife. The mother of your eldest." Yes, Derek knew of her, of the woman she resembled. Even now they still spoke of her, but the stories were thin, like overwatered soup, and they lacked the meat that they would have had immediately after her passing into Valhalla. "I know of her, and of you."
Her head tilted slightly, fingers splaying wide to catch a flicker of fire between them. It licked up her palms, a hot courtship of touch before vanishing into the air. "Shall we Hunt together, Ragnar? They will need more meat soon." It was as much mercy as she could show.