Thorvald’s Wyrd 039
He’d slept long, a full night and more by the stiffness in his neck and back from the icy ground.
Turning his mind from discomfort, Thorvald opened his eyes to the Summer Cross and Freyja’s Crown. All the stars gliding by in a single night. How many seasons turned while he slept? How many times had they all passed overhead since he pried Gungnir from his door? The longest Mother Night of all. The night that might never end. He stood, brushing tiny glittering crystals from his furs.
Fingers wrapped around the All Father’s spear, Thorvald found the Pole Star.