♡ Tkay!

“Leave it, Breca. It is nature’s way. This is a red world of tooth and claw. The bird eats the mouse, the cat eats the bird, the wolf eats the cat, and so on. You cannot change this.”

“Remember, we are Bloodsworn, bound to one another. Stand or fall, we are sworn to each other. That is our strength."

“You are a stubborn mule,” Elvar said. “Life is for the living, happiness for the taking.”

“You really do like cheese, don’t you?” Varg observed.
“Cheese saved my life,” Svik said.

The hall began to fill, men and women entering, all setting their shields and spears around the halls’ outskirts and taking their places on the mead benches as thralls were filling the long tables with food and drink: bowls of creamy skyr yoghurt and curds, pots of honey. Boards were full of dried and smoked sliced mutton, trenchers of rabbit and beef, slabs of whale meat and barrels of horsemeat floating in whey. Fresh-baked bread, still hot from the ovens. Dried cod, pungent and salty. Herring fermented in brine, blood pudding, cauldrons of stew glistening with fat and bobbing with carrots, parsnips and onion, and horns of warm mead spiced with juniper to wash it all down.