Welcome to Gaia! ::

Orrusti Svalinn was no stranger to getting lost in the middle of a blizzard. Though... most would think it strange, or perhaps come to the conclusion that he was somehow horribly cursed, having been in this exact situation multiple times in his life, let alone more than once.

The battle-ready stallion gladly welcomed them at this point, allowing the storms to engulf him in their frosty, raging winds and buffeting snowfall and ice, all in the hopes of testing his mettle and might, and the sheer will to withstand it all and survive. Although unexpected around this time of year, this winter storm was no exception, and he greeted its arrival with open arms.

“YES. We meet again!” Stalwart and fearless Orrusti Svalinn now found himself trailing away from the safety and warmth of a village he and his ragtag bunch had taken up temporary residence in, shrugging off all concern and scolding from his comrades.



Baaah.

What kind of leader was he if he couldn’t survive a day or two out in the wild? He needed to show them that he could do this. That he could handle all of life’s hardships and hurdles, face all that nature tossed his way. And he had. He did. And he would do it again just for the hell of it, just you wait!

He had a belly full of mediocre on-the-road supper (...what little there was to graze in the area and some dried fall fruits, blech) and had imbibed what was probably considered far too much of the local drink (though it didn’t hold a candle to his absolute favorite: mead). As far as he was concerned, he was all set and ready to go, thriving in cold weather like this so long as he had a bit of booze to keep him cozy and warm.

“Yes. Yes! All ready to go, yessIIIR.” Orrusti bellowed out to himself and the howling winds with the confidence of a true leader, right until he tripped over that last word, mouth dry and speech slurred. And with a throat that was... oddly sore when he tried to swallow and gather himself. He stopped in his tracks, face scrunching with a look that mixed together both confusion and disgust. At his body? At the inability to speak properly? At the storm for so rudely interrupting him?

...Did the storm interrupt him?

The large stallion looked like he was having a quiet moment of introspection, buffeted by the late winter winds out in the middle of who-knows-where.

Uh... Huh. What was he doing out here again? Traveling, or in the middle of looking for someone or something, or... something.

Orrusti grew quiet, wobbling in place as he did his best to withstand the storm. He couldn’t concentrate. He couldn’t think. Everything was too white and bright, too dark and confusing. What time was it, even? How long had he been walking for? His joints mildly ached, and deep inside he had an inkling that it wasn’t just because of the cold.

“...Hot.”

It was the only coherent thought he could manage to latch onto, and he clung to it. Normally comfortable in what he was currently wearing, he suddenly felt so damn hot beneath all of his attire. Orrusti scrambled to swiftly remove his armor, though in reality it was at a sluggish snail’s pace worsened by his growing fever.

The vikingr didn’t know when he had fallen to the ground, but he had, burning body chilled but also not at all by the cold snow below. “Get off, getoff, g’off.” He begged, trying his best to feebly paw at the icy spikes, metal, and well-worn leather that so often adorned him. But his best wasn’t good enough, and the ill and dizzy stallion soon found himself succumbing to the cold bed he had made.

Just a moment of rest, that was all. That’s all he needed. The worn-out warrior was sure of it, watching the world spin with drowsy, heavy eyes.

That was it.

Rest.



“I believe you’ve rested enough.”

Despite the gentle tone of the voice, Orrusti awoke with a start, breathing heavily and in a panicked daze. What happened? Where was he?! Who was speaking to him?

And Gods, why did both his head and body ache? This was so much worse than the usual hangover.

The vikingr’s body told him as much as he tried, and swiftly failed, to rise from his spot. He wasn’t resting anywhere special, or so it seemed, just a bed of dry and earthy soil within a stone cavern, far back enough from its entrance to stay comfortable and take shelter from the elements. He was safe and warm enough, judging by how he’d survived the night. But he didn’t recall making his way here. No, not by himself, especially in that horrid state of his. Sunlight illuminated the bright, white snow just outside the entrance of the shelter, causing him to squint. Orrusti turned his attention to the inner workings of the cave, one question lingering: who did he need to thank?



“Hey there, warrior.”

The stallion found himself looking at his savior as she leaned her head down in front of him to finally catch his attention. She was beautiful and blinding, an Angeni that matched the exact color of the snow outside, tip to tail, including her impressive set of wings.

“Found you passed out in the snow last night. Y’might be sick or something. You yacked up whatever dinner and drink you had on the way here last night.” The mare shuddered at the thought and gave a look of disgust. “Preeeeetty gross, but I guess that helped y’out. Fell right to sleep when I finally dragged you in here to rest up overnight."

Orrusti Svalinn, for once in his life, was left speechless and mortified.