Thorfinn Thorsson }{ Karlsefni (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
seekingvinland) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sixthiterationlogs2016-07-13 07:44 pm
seekingvinland) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2016-07-13 07:44 pm
Arrival: A new land
WHO: Thorfinn Thorsson
WHERE: The Fountain
WHEN: July 13th
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: N/A
STATUS: Closed
It's another nightmare.
It was the first thought that crossed his mind when he felt the water around him and his eyes flew open. He needed air… Dream or not, Thorfinn had little choice but to push up towards the light in the distance. Swimming was always one of his strong points. Kicking as hard as he could for the surface as his lungs started to burn desperately needing air. When Thorfinn came bursting through the water his scarred hands grabbed onto the edge of the fountain. Coughing heavily as he heaved himself over the edge onto the ground.
This was the strangest dream he had ever had… Well, kind of.
It took a few moments of coughing to get the water out of his lungs before he could breath. Pushing himself onto his hands and knees and sitting back his long blonde hair plastering to his face. He his eyes widened as he looked around him. Something akin to fear started to fill his senses… This wasn't the bodies of the dead, this wasn't his father or Askeladd. This wasn't a dream.
From the way the air felt on his wet skin, to the strange ground beneath his hands biting into his palms. It all screamed reality. It was no dream.
"Móðir! Einar! Ylfa!"
He called out the names of those who had been in the house when he had slipped to sleep. His instincts seemed to finally catch up with him as he pushed himself to his feet. He was in strange shoes he had never seen before. Clothes like those almost from a dream. A dream that he had long forgotten. One of strange islands in the sky connected by small bifrosts. He stood there examining the strange light gray clothing on him. Confused and soaked to the bone.
"Hvað er þetta? Hvar er ég? Odin, gefa mér merki."
WHERE: The Fountain
WHEN: July 13th
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: N/A
STATUS: Closed
It's another nightmare.
It was the first thought that crossed his mind when he felt the water around him and his eyes flew open. He needed air… Dream or not, Thorfinn had little choice but to push up towards the light in the distance. Swimming was always one of his strong points. Kicking as hard as he could for the surface as his lungs started to burn desperately needing air. When Thorfinn came bursting through the water his scarred hands grabbed onto the edge of the fountain. Coughing heavily as he heaved himself over the edge onto the ground.
This was the strangest dream he had ever had… Well, kind of.
It took a few moments of coughing to get the water out of his lungs before he could breath. Pushing himself onto his hands and knees and sitting back his long blonde hair plastering to his face. He his eyes widened as he looked around him. Something akin to fear started to fill his senses… This wasn't the bodies of the dead, this wasn't his father or Askeladd. This wasn't a dream.
From the way the air felt on his wet skin, to the strange ground beneath his hands biting into his palms. It all screamed reality. It was no dream.
"Móðir! Einar! Ylfa!"
He called out the names of those who had been in the house when he had slipped to sleep. His instincts seemed to finally catch up with him as he pushed himself to his feet. He was in strange shoes he had never seen before. Clothes like those almost from a dream. A dream that he had long forgotten. One of strange islands in the sky connected by small bifrosts. He stood there examining the strange light gray clothing on him. Confused and soaked to the bone.
"Hvað er þetta? Hvar er ég? Odin, gefa mér merki."
no subject
Still, he appreciated not being treated like a child. He had hated that even when he was a child. Language barriers were nothing new to him, just another annoyance... but one he could deal with to have a familiar face near by. When she lifted her hand and waved for him to follow, he did just that.
He used to move so silently, but the new boots felt strange on his feet. He moved a bit uneven, his steps a little louder, the steps of a man who had never wore boots like these before. They felt nearly like armor and had it a little harder to move the way he was used to, and yet he followed along anyway. His fingers messing with the straps of the pack on his back. It was nothing like his old satchel but he was less concerned with it than the buildings coming into sight, and following the head of blonde hair before him.
While he only understood one in ever four or five words Jo was saying, the sound of her voice was a comfort enough. She was an old hand at this other worlds confusion, they would find a way.