Thorvald’s Wyrd 027
When air moves across the world, the word we use is wind.
Wind stirs the leaves in the trees, the grain in the fields, the fur and feathers of the beasts, the hearts and minds of men and women. It may bring life or death, hope or despair, health or sickness, or all of these together.
And if its cause is the turning of the world, the breath of gods, or the motions of four strong dwarves lifting the sky, the tale of wind’s origin matters little to those who feel its breath.
What matters is the change it carries.