#she is so... much... taller than me (dagr)

[hawcculi]

Blank Verse

Write some poetry for Dagr!

The assignment made it sound so much easier than it was. He clenched the blank paper in one hand, rolling the pen against his other palm. He couldn’t remember ever speaking to Dagr, though they were technically coworkers. In his defense, there were a lot of people at this academy. He could also not remember ever writing poetry, but the threat of not completing the task had urged him to learn - quickly. He’d asked Dagr to meet him in this classroom, he could only hope that she saw the note stuck on her door. Based on the booming strides he heard outside, she had. 

“Hey, Dagr!” He smiled nervously. She was so much taller than him. “Looks like we’ve got to write some poetry together, or about each other...” He set the paper and pen back on one of the desks. “Have you ever done this before...?” 

>@skinfcxi

[hrimfabless]

[COMPLIMENT] the sender compliments the receiver.

Whilst taciturn, few people or things in this world can render Ares speechless. Yet the way his mouth hung open, jaw wide and agape, made it difficult to physically speak. Not that he had much to say.

A few moments later and he finally picked his jaw up off the floor. The woman, over a head taller than him, cut an elegant and poised figure before him.

"Your lance technique is exquisite. Phenemonal. I've never seen anything like it," Ares sounds breathless as he speaks. "Could... could I trouble you to teach me?"

meet and greet!

         the training dummy is ripped in half with ease, hrímfaxi’s blade tearing through wood with the precision of her companion, austri, before sending the top half to crash on the training hall wall; splinters and shards of wood left in its toss.  practicing on wooden structures seemed... useless, as well.  nótt sighs, steadying her stance and lowering hrímfaxi from its offensive angle.  thankfully, the training hall is almost empty at this hour of night, so there is barely anyone to witness her temper when the next line of training dummies are snapped by her own hand, not her lance.  it only takes that for her to calm down, a smile pulling at her lips as she retakes her form and starts again.

          but she doesn’t get far.  her strike is interrupted by another’s presence and nótt carefully redirects the swing to an idle position, lowering her lance once more to face the person.  the smile that brightens her expression is almost immediate when she looks down and sees the man almost bashful before her.  if anything, she makes a soft noise akin to an awe, at the sight.

          nótt can barely hear him from the airy tone he takes to using so she bends over just slightly to allow for easier hearing.  even though she’s heard it many times, the idea of a man wielding a weapon is still a bit foreign to her.  but no matter, she continues to smile as she sticks her lance into the ground, blade down, and clasps her hands together.

          “   your words make my heart warm!  it doesn’t take a keen eye to realize how grand my skills are but nonetheless, i thank you.   ”   she pauses, turning his question in her head until she’s formed a response.  nótt laughs,   “   if you wish for me to teach you, then i suppose i... can try.  though i’d have to ask something of you in return; a fair exchange, if you think about it as such!   ”

          while she’d rather not teach a man the techniques her mother has so thoughtfully implemented in her memory, there are other forms of lance work she can teach him.  and other things she can gain from this.   “   why don’t we start off slow first, yes?  we can begin with the basics of companionship!   ”   with that, nótt turns around and pulls hrímfaxi from the ground, holding it over her shoulder as she gestures for the man to follow her.   “   you’re speaking to princess nótt of jötunheimr, elder sister of dagr.  and you might be?   ”