valkyries || open, joining

[Sympathy]

GHOST OF SPARTA

kratos — male — snowbound — hard

Three years of uninterrupted snowfall and countless warfare-- enough to end all life on the planet. Following this would be the start of Ragnarök. Such a harsh weather change had been named Fimbulwinter. Kratos knew deep down that the heavy snowfall he was now facing through his trek across the land was not such an event-- not when he could still see green just beyond the horizon. But there was always a chance. The heavy set smilodon had been traveling on his own for what felt like ages, constantly on the move and never having a destination in mind. Why he was here-- well something in his gut lead him to this frozen waste and since he no longer had a reason to stay in his old home, he had left. He could nearly blend in with the backdrop, his once sandy spotted coat now a stark ashy white-- a punishment of crimes long ago. what stood out however, were the rich red markings swirling his shoulder and chest, and the narrowed cold gaze that stared straight ahead. He only stopped when a new scent took over the cool frigid air. Many scents, from many people. The God felt his shoulders tense as he slowly approached what he assumed where the borders, spanning out miles across the snowy terrain. Borders and yet there wasn't a single soul in sight to guard them. It was laughable and foolish. What if he had been hellbent on murdering everyone here? What then? All he had to do was waltz right on in. And while he wasn't currently interested in killing anyone, he also didn't care much for the borderlines and padded right on over to continue his solo trek through the tundra. Though he would keep his guard up and ready just in case those who lived here decided to try anything.

this is really lame bc im like half asleep rn but at least he's here so whatever//
"SPEECH"

#psychosocial.