How to Train your Dragon Roleplay - Archived

Hands shaking, she wiped away at the blood in her eyes. By now, it had mostly hardened to a thick, gritty red crust. The cut was visible now, going from above her left eyebrow to the base of her right cheek. "I'm fine. Where's Brynhilde?"

"I... Thank you." She took the cloth, hands shaking as she wiped at the wound. She flinched at the sting of the rough material on her raw, ripped flesh.

Evalda sat in silence, cheeks flushing with shame. After something like his, how would the Cheif ever trust her enough to allow her to scale ranks? She'd been labeled an arrogant, reckless trainee now.

Carefully, Evalda began to pull bits of crusty blood from her hair and eyebrows. She wondered how thick the scar would be once it healed. Cold dread settled in the pit of her stomach. At this rate, her title would be "Evalda the Scarred" or something like that.

She shrugged, staring down below her at the grassy terrain. "Either way, it's something I'll have to live with. No use getting so broken up about it, is there?" Her voice shook slightly at the last words, but she kept her gaze trained firmly on the ground.

Before she could stop herself from speaking, words tumbled from her lips. "How can I? The scars of other Vikings come from fights or battles or great, heroic deeds. This was from falling on my face, down a hill because of my own irresponsibility. There's nothing to be proud of with this scar. All it will do is serve as a reminder that I was a foolish trainee."

In spite of the situation, she managed a smile. "Really? How old were you?"

"But in a. Large enough number, they've been known to bite through flesh! How'd you get them off by yourself?"

She laughed. "So I guess we do all start somewhere. But that was pretty quick thinking."