The Rökkr Cycle: Wyrd-Woven

It took some time and a lot of distance covered before Vargr slowed after their escape, assuming that they were far enough away from danger to warrant a lower speed. He hadn’t spoken a word the entire time and Rune thought it better considering she didn’t really have anything of import to say.

Finally, they arrived at a clearing and Vargr stopped, panting as he waited for…something.

“Why have we stopped?” Rune asked aloud, clinging close to Vargr’s bristled fur as she spoke.

Help is coming…but I haven’t been entirely truthful with you either. The Varg responded, lowering himself so that Rune could carefully slide off of his back.

“Everyone has secrets, it seems—but there’s a reason for that, I think.” Rune replied as she gathered the wool blanket around herself; it had gotten even colder in just a short amount of time.

This may be one that makes you—uh, upset with me. Vargr thought back as he let out a low whine.

The chord he struck with his lupine voice was a signal of some sort because shortly after he made it, impossibly large, grey wolves began to sulk from the trees, encircling them.

“Vargr…what is happening?” Fear cropped its ugly head inside Rune’s belly as she took several steps back from the pack that had emerged. They looked eerily like…

Úlfberi, but please listen and don’t think that I’ve betrayed you. Vargr began as one by one, the wolves in front of her transformed into humanoid beings, some with deep, grey skin, some green, others a peachy pink. They were indeed Úlfberi based on their features.

Rune quickly produced a knife from her bag, the one she had taken from Alfhild’s cave, and brandished it at the group, Vargr included.

“How can I not feel betrayed?” She hollered, “You just brought me right to them!”

No, Rune. Look at them. Do you recognize any of their faces? These aren’t the pack you dealt with earlier. Skerptunga’s pack is a rogue faction and not representative of us as a whole. Vargr tried to calm her panic.

“Us?” Rune breathed, noting his usage of the word.

“Please, young one—trust Vargr. What he says is truth and we are not associated with Skerptunga’s pack.” A tall Varg woman with eyes the color of scorching embers stepped forth. She didn’t have the same feel as Skerptunga did.

Please, Rune. Let them get us safely inside and I will explain everything. Vargr pleaded with her mentally.

Rune thought about it, letting her hand with the knife drop to her side. No one was trying to attack her and Vargr had protected her since the moment he met her…if he had wanted harm to come to her, it would have already happened.

“Fine, but it better be a damn good explanation or I will hurt you.” Rune tried to sound tough, but her fear was gnawing away at her.

“Come then. We have hot food to warm your belly and a safe place to sleep.” The Varg woman professed, “Oh, and I’m Speki, by the way; Vargr’s second in command.”

Second in command? What was this woman saying to her?

“Come, come.” The other Vargs joined in as they led Rune and Vargr to a curtain of strange moss that hung between two large ash trees.

The wolves seemed to walk right through the pale greenery without moving it out of the way and Rune didn’t question it as she mimicked these actions. As she stepped through, it was as if she was in a whole other world, one ancient and full of life, full of magi that she almost couldn’t comprehend.

“Welcome to the Úlfaskógur, the Wolf Woods. I could go on, but I think it’s best if Vargr tells you everything. If you’ll follow me this way, we’ll lead you to his hut.” Speki guided them down a trail lined with a hodge-podge of huts and other structures till they came to a sizeable abode, Speki stopping just in front of the door as Vargr squeezed past her and entered. Rune stood there for a moment before she nodded and entered herself.

A fire was already lit within the hearth and Vargr was pacing in front of it like he did when he was thinking or under duress.

Sit, sit. Make yourself at home. He finally spoke internally and Rune did as she was told, finding a spot in a bed of hay and rabbit furs.

“I’m trusting you, Vargr. I’m trying to give you the benefit of the doubt and trying to not be so judgmental, but could you see why I might be?” Rune prefaced the conversation that they were about to have.

It’s understandable, but before I go on to explain all of this to you, I need to show you something. Vargr began as he padded over to a room divider and stepped behind it.

Rune wondered why he was going back there and tried to catch a glimpse of what he was doing, but he was perfectly hidden from her view.

“Now, don’t scream.”

Rune had heard those words from Vargr before, but not in this way. His speech was audible, as if it were Ronan or Einar or anyone else speaking to her.

Before Rune could ask why, a man stepped out from behind the partition and she had to cover her mouth with her hand lest she do exactly what he told her not to.

“G—Garmr?” Rune could feel her chest tighten as she uttered the name and the man cocked his head to the side in wonder, just like she had seen Vargr do a dozen times.

“I saw you in my memory. You took me from my sister and made sure I got safely to my orb.” Rune couldn’t believe what she was saying…but was it so far-fetched?

“Ah, that’s what you saw while in there. Yes, I am a Garmr, but not the one you think. The one that you may know of was my father.” Vargr, or Garmr, replied as he pulled out a stool and set it up right in front of Rune.

“Wait, so you’re the son of Fenrir? My brother?” Rune was trying to wrap her head around everything as she asked.

“You do know your myths, but it is just that—a myth. My father is not Fenrir, and Fenrir is not Garmr. My father was an Iron Wood Jotnar, a friend of your mother’s. He took on the task of protecting the gates of Helheim for a very long time as a favor to Angrboda until—until he was killed, what seems like, a long time ago. I took up the mantle and shared my time between Helheim and the Iron Wood.” Vargr explained himself as he sat in front of her.

“So, what do I call you? Garmr or Vargr?” Rune wondered, not really focusing on the revelation at hand.

“Vargr, please. Garmr is more of a title at this point, but I prefer just being a wolf.” He smiled and Rune noticed how very sharp his teeth were, even in such a human-like form.

“Well, Vargr, tell me about the Úlfberi then. I can’t sit here wondering forever.” Rune was short, trying to hide how nervous she felt.

“Of course. Let me start by saying that I never lied to you about Skerptunga’s pack…they haven’t been seen in their Jotun form in quite some time. I wasn’t sure it was even possible for them to change back because of their madness, but they are not us. Einar was right about the clans, at least the most prominent in the Iron Wood, but the clans themselves are not bad; we’re not evil. At one point in our very long history, my father was the leader of the Úlfberi before he made the decision to protect the gates of Helheim. After he was killed, it was passed on to his predecessor—me. But I had to give that up when I was called upon by your sister to help protect the gates and ensure your safety. I can’t get into the details, like Einar said, but I was needed and so I took the same oath as my father. During this time, the position of clan leader was passed along to another, but they never stood a chance. Because of the conflict, a lot of my kind needed to escape the realms and went through the same process as you did with the orb before they were sent here to ensure their safety.” Vargr divulged, lighting up a pipe as he retold his story.

“But how did you get here? Did you come on the most recent convoy?” Rune asked, eager to know more.

“Oh, no. I’ve been here almost as long as you have.” Vargr nodded, offering the pipe to Rune.

“How is that possible? You didn’t leave with me, did you?” Rune couldn’t believe that Vargr had been here all this time; it just didn’t make sense.

“No, but I did leave not long after. There’s a window of several weeks where the current created from the comet can still carry the orbs to their destination. I will only tell you this bit because you weren’t there to experience it, but I had an emergency orb created around the time you went through your ceremony; a precaution that was requested by your mother. There—there was a problem after you and Ronan left. Somehow, they found out and were able to send—something—on the current to intercept your convoy. It was requested that I go to ensure your safety, but I was too late.” Vargr’s eyes seemed distant as he stared out the window of the hut, the pipe in his mouth.

“What happened?” Rune was now deeply into the story, leaning forward so she was closer to Vargr as she reached for the pipe.

“They were able to cause a crash. You should have landed safely, there was supposed to be someone here to take you in, but I didn’t know who. All I know is that it wasn’t the Úlfberi stronghold that we are sitting in. The crash must have caused damage to your Death Cap, as you know, and without that knowledge of who you were, you weren’t able to make it safely to your destination. It was lucky that Erik found you and had the compassion to take care of you or Gods only know what would have happened. I spent a long time looking for you, but kept coming up empty and it wasn’t until this last convoy that I discovered the paradise here.” Vargr paused in his speech to take a deep breath and give Rune time to digest what he had just said.

“You’ve spent the last twenty years alone?” Rune asked in surprise.

“Mostly. I’ve come into contact with other settlements, but I never settled myself. I spent the last several months trailing Skerptunga’s pack before I finally made myself known to them. I knew they were looking for “the offspring” and I hadn’t any idea whether it was you or Ronan, because honestly it could have been either. That’s when I knew that at least one of you was alive and eventually I picked up your scent in the woods that night. I finally found you.” Vargr let out a sigh that practically deflated him as he gave Rune a tired smile.

“You made yourself known to them? What does that mean?” Rune queried. She was grateful that he had spent the last twenty years of his life searching for her, but some things still weren’t quite clear.

“Remember that business that I had to attend to?” Vargr leaned in closer to Rune, matching her seated stance, “It was to update them on you. I had been listening in to them and heard about how they’d picked up on your scent not long after I found you in the woods that night. I claimed to be a defect like them and said that I had come into contact with you and Ronan, that I had gotten you all to trust me…they wanted me to deliver you to them. That night near the cave, when Einar was attacked, I thought that they were coming for you even though I hadn’t given them the go ahead—but they were there for Ronan. They didn’t even know who you were and I’m still not sure if they even do. I misunderstood their talks and thought that you were the target, but it was him all along. I had to bide my time to keep you both safe, but they found us somehow and left those bones as a warning to all of us.” Vargr tried to be as honest as possible and answer Rune’s questions thoroughly.

It was convoluted, but she believed him somehow. If Einar and Ronan had been here to hear the story, they most certainly would have thought that something about the whole thing was fishy. Rune thought it made sense, though, especially considering everything that she already knew.

“Whew, this is a lot to take in and I can see why Arvid doesn’t trust me. But I’m not a spy, right?” Rune had to verify even though it wouldn’t make sense for her to be if Vargr’s story was accurate.

“You’re no spy, Rune. I can promise you that. You were just as innocent as Ronan was when this all happened. I asked you if you thought meeting Ronan was just a coincidence, remember? That you falling together and reuniting somehow wasn’t by chance. I knew that there was something between you two the moment you met in Heimdallr’s Keep. I can’t explain it, only the Nornr truly know, but there was a reason that you left together and somehow found one another again after so many years. I was able to keep my own Death Cap safe and got in touch with your sister when the window was open. That was before we met, but I had already found you by that time. She told me then all about her mother’s dethroning and Skerptunga’s assumption of the throne and their leaving from Jotunheim to arrive here before it was time for a new convoy to be sent out. She didn’t know how they were able to accomplish such a feat…but she warned me that your blood had been stolen from her.” Vargr finished his explanation and waited for it to settle in Rune’s mind.

It clicked and her eyes went wide as she responded, “Then the voice that I heard wasn’t kin to me? I didn’t give them my blood?”

Vargr shook his head, his long, dark hair shaking with it, before he replied, “No. That voice you heard was not your sister or mother or me. We were the only three that ever had your blood. I never thought to ask, but did the voice sound familiar at all?”

“No. It was distorted. Not feminine, not masculine, completely unrecognizable. It was different from the ones I heard growing up, which definitely doesn’t make any sense since I know where the voice in the box came from. If they could only communicate with me during that window, who was talking to me for all those years?” Rune responded, going back to her doubts and fears from the past.

Vargr sighed and stood, offering his hand to Rune, “We still have a lot to talk about, but it has to wait till you dig deeper into your past. Now is not the time, however. You need to eat and get used to your surroundings before we attempt to go further.”

Rune gave in, even though she felt like she could sit here for hours upon hours discovering who she was. Her belly was definitely rumbling with hunger and she needed to eat, especially since she had recently been injured. She needed to be at her best for what was still yet to come.

(*)

Vargr took Rune to a longhouse that was even somehow grander than the one at the Keep. It wasn’t fancy by any means, and the wood was rough and carved by hand, but it was warm and inviting, not cold and uniform. The inside was filled with music as a band of men played jovially in one corner. All the seats were full of bodies and the sound of drinking horns clashing together rang out as amused laughter met her ears. It was loud, louder than the other longhouse, but it somehow didn’t make Rune feel as anxious.

“Sit. The food will come to us.” Vargr scooted someone down the bench with his hip and gestured for Rune to take a seat. He then came around the other side of the table so he could take a spot in front of her.

Sure enough, plates of food were being passed down the line and Rune tried to grab what she could before the next person got to it. Vargr was able to secure two horns of mead and passed her one before he started to eat.

“I can’t get over this. Things just keep evolving and it’s like I blink and they’ve changed again. And just the fact that I’m sitting across the table from you and you’re not furry still has me wondering if this is all just some absurd, convoluted hallucination.” Rune joked, but she could see how it might come off as dark.

“I’m very real, Rune.” Vargr smirked at her before he took a swig of his mead.

“I can see that.” Rune chuckled.

And see him, she could. She never once expected him to be anything other than a talking Varg from another realm, which was pretty crazy in and of itself, but now she was talking to him and he was talking back…using his mouth and in a visage that was not at all hard on the eyes.

Rune had gotten a bit lost in her musings and didn’t realize that Vargr was just staring at her with a smirk still on his face. She suddenly felt self-conscious before she boldly asked, “What are you looking at?”

“You,” He was forward, “I’m just surprised you still look like this considering it’s been so long.”

Rune made a face before she scoffed, “Well, I didn’t have the powerful magi of the settlement to keep me young like the others.”

“That’s not what I meant, Rune. You don’t have any idea and I couldn’t just come out and say it, for more reasons than one. This isn’t how you usually look.” Vargr pointed a sharp finger at her.

Rune furrowed her brow as she took the rest of the mead and replied, “You’ve lost me, Vargr. I’ve always looked this way, more or less. I’m just—older with more tattoos and dyed hair.”

Vargr started to laugh at her ignorance before he finally calmed himself enough to speak, “And that’s what makes it even more amazing. You’ve held that form for twenty years, letting it shift and age as you did.”

Rune was starting to get agitated as if she was the only one not in on the joke and growled, “Just say what you mean, warg.”

She knew that word would irritate him right back and he narrowed his smoldering orange eyes at her before he replied, “You’re the daughter of Angrboda, one of the best and most famous shape-shifters. You think she wouldn’t teach you how?”

It dawned on Rune at that moment as she looked around the longhouse at all the Jotnar. She was one of them, at least partially, but she looked nothing like them. If anything, she looked more like Ronan and Einar, more human.

“Oh, oh…what? How?” Rune held her hands out as she asked, analyzing the hue of her skin before going to pinch her ears.

“I assume because you’ve been in it for so long. I don’t know when you did it, but there was something inside you that kept it up despite your fugue state. And you aged so organically—it’s rather remarkable.” Vargr seemed to approve, but now Rune was having a total identity crisis.

The skin she was in felt wrong, uncomfortable, out of place…at least now that she knew. She wasn’t human, she wasn’t from Asgard or even that side of the realms. Rune was a Jotun, but she didn’t even know what that meant or what it even felt like. The anxiety was now rising up within her again as she clutched her arm, feeling very out of place and incredibly crowded.

“Excuse me.” She choked out as she pushed away from the table and tore out of the longhouse before Vargr could stop her.

(*)

“Rune? Are you in here? I don’t want to have to go hunting for you all across the stronghold.” Vargr called out as he entered his hut.

“No. I’m not here. Not completely.” A meek response came from behind the room divider.

“I didn’t mean to upset you…probably could have gone about bringing that up a better way. Can you come out so we can talk?” Vargr slinked up to the partition and tried to get a peek at her, but she skirted out from behind it before he had a chance.

“How do I shake it? I want to see what I really look like.” Rune pleaded as Vargr turned around to face her.

“That’s not something I can just teach you in an instant, but it’s innate, at least for you. You just need to feel it, get in touch with that side of you that knows.” Vargr tried to simplify it for her, but he didn’t know how to teach her since she already knew.

“Great. My doubt tells me the total opposite. Not that I necessarily hate how I look now, but I’m—I’m looking for some sort of connection to my former self, you know?” Rune tried to express how she felt as she wandered through the hut, looking at all of Vargr’s knick-knacks and what-nots.

Vargr understood completely, besides not having been through what she did. He had spent longer than he liked on a foreign world, trying to find that piece that would connect him to his home.

“Why don’t you tell me about what you do know then?” Vargr pulled up the stool again and gestured for Rune to relax amidst the hay filled pallet on the floor.

“You already heard what I know, though.” Rune protested, taking a seat anyway.

“No, you told me about the interaction with your sister and her talks of your mother, not what happened after. I know you saw more than that because you mentioned me by name. Why don’t you sit back and recall what you experienced.” Vargr suggested as he pulled a bottle of mead from seemingly nowhere and passed it to her.

Rune thought about it for a moment before she took a swill and began, “ Well, you came and took me away from Hel and to Heimdallr’s Keep, the real one, because that was where my orb was waiting. I saw what was left of Bifrost and it was not like anything I ever imagined. It was almost electrical, like power was still running to it even though the whole bridge had been destroyed. You told me that the orb was my only way out of there and asked if I remembered what to do and I did. I started to go through the process in my head, though I never got very far before someone else showed up. It was an Alfar man, demanding that we identify ourselves.” Rune paused to take another gulp of the mead.

“I remember that.” Vargr nodded, intently listening to what she was recalling.

“You challenged him to do so first and that’s when I realized that the Alfar wasn’t alone; he had a young man with him. The Alfar’s sword was drawn as he declared himself the keeper of the Queen’s son and threatened to kill us if he had to. You obviously knew at that moment exactly who Ronan was and what possible trouble we could be in because you tried to hide me behind you.” Rune detailed as her eyes unfocused on her surroundings and she got lost in the memory.

“I was honestly afraid we’d been caught. Not to give too much information, but our kind wasn’t exactly welcomed with open arms on Asgard.” Vargr informed her.

“I assumed as much because you questioned the Alfar about why he and the Queen’s son were out in the Keep late at night, like you were trying to assess the gravity of the situation. Of course, the Alfar didn’t like being questioned by a Varg and wanted to know what you were doing out there at that time of night. It was like a battle of wits between the two of you, neither one wanting the other to get the upper hand. You both were just trying to protect your wards.” Rune stopped and shook her head, trying to keep herself from getting lost in the memory that was being played back so vividly in her mind.

“But you were quick with the pleading, changing your tone to explain that you had a young girl that needed transport to Midgard, that my life depended on it and I was just a child. You tried to appeal to the fact that he was doing the same thing; you just knew it. The Alfar hesitated as if he was looking for this child you spoke of and that’s when I took it upon myself to beg for my safe passage, despite our people not seeing eye to eye…but I mentioned a war coming and that my family was trying to ensure my safe-keeping. I just wanted to be able to go in peace.” Rune had to stop again in her story as she rubbed her temples. Saying things out loud was making her feel some sort of way. It was almost as if she was…remembering.

“Keep going.” Vargr urged, reaching out to take her hand in his out of reassurance.

It was as if Rune could see everything again all of a sudden. She took in a deep, shaky breath and tried to go on.

“And then I saw him for the first time. He was not much older looking than me, I assume; scruffier and kinda skinny. I thought he was rather handsome and scolded myself for thinking such things when my literal life was on the line. But he chose to speak over his guard, Lorimir, and told him to lower his weapon. He said that he and I may be in a similar situation and they weren’t there to decide who gets to escape Asgard and who gets left behind, that I went through the same process that he did and I deserved to go to Midgard as much as he, and that at least he wouldn’t be alone.” Rune could feel tears welling in her eyes, but for the first time in a long time, they were tears of happiness as she looked on at Vargr.

“He smiled at me and it made my heart skip, not just because it was the first time I was seeing an Asgardian up close, but because…I don’t know. There’s something more to this memory that I keep trying to reach for. But anyway, Lorimir gave in and the two of you went to ready the orbs for the trip while Ronan and I stood by and waited. I remember inhaling the air there in Asgard—it was so different, almost sweet like spring flowers and ripe fruit. I guess he noticed and decided to talk to me, which I never expected. He made a comment about it being a nice night and he was glad to have it as a final memory. He then said, ‘I never got your name’ and when I tried to tell him, there was an explosion somewhere nearby and you and Larimir whisked us away into the orbs…that’s when I got pulled from my orb here in this time and right out of the memory.” Rune deflated with her last words, exhausted at the recall.

“That’s all you remember? You don’t remember anything else after you stepped into the orb back then?” Vargr asked, still holding her hand.

Maybe she did. She remembered the petals closing after she was hooked in and the rumbling of the pod as it started to pick up speed, but then she started to feel very sleepy. But before she lost consciousness, there was something that had slipped through the cracks while she was in her pod reliving this memory…but now it was clear. Rune could recall what she did right before she drifted off into stasis.

“Rune…” Vargr’s voice snapped her from her musing and she opened her eyes; they had been closed and she didn’t even realize it.

“Hm? I’m sorry. I got lost in thought.” She apologized, but Vargr just smiled and pulled on her hand, helping her stand.

“Don’t be sorry; look.” Vargr led her over to a desk and picked up what appeared to be an obsidian mirror before he handed it to her.

Rune still felt like she was in a fog as she held the mirror up to her face and her mouth fell when she caught sight of what she looked like.

Her skin wasn’t as pink as it had been, the hue more grey, but as she shifted her face from side to side, she could see it change and flash in different muted shades of lilac, silver, and jade. The teeth in her mouth were sharper, especially the canines, and they fit perfectly with one another as she bared them in the mirror. Her ears were pointed like a wolf and the hair on her head was a deep burgundy like thick blood, much darker than the hair she had been sporting, a stark contrast to her stone skin. But the eyes…the left one was so green and looked almost animalistic, but the eye on the right was entirely black, glaring back at her like a bottomless void.

“Oh, fuck.” Rune finally uttered as she set the mirror down and looked up at Vargr in surprise.

“That’s the face I knew.” Vargr was still smiling as he raised a hand and ran his thumb down her cheek.

“But why am I still so short?” Rune dismissed the way she appeared and focused more on her lack of height.

Vargr laughed heartily before he regained his composure and responded, “Because you’re very short. I know that Jotnar are supposed to be giants and a lot of us are, but sometimes that predisposition doesn’t translate through bloodlines. Your mother is a hefty woman, but none of us know about who your father was.”

Vargr let slip too much information and quickly covered his mouth.

“My father,” Rune exhaled through her nose, “My father is something I’ve never considered because I was told he ran off when I was really young. I know that to be a story now, but I still never thought about it. I guess that’s one thing I will never know, regardless of how much I remember.”

“Never mind that now, because I think that you just remembered something on your own, didn’t you? I could see it on your face when you went quiet.” Vargr led her back over to where she had been sitting.

“I think so. It was weird…thinking about meeting Ronan that first time roiled up something inside me,” Rune replied, “ I don’t know. I don’t know what it was.”

“Well, whatever it was, it worked. You tapped into your shape-shifting knowledge.” Vargr was now bustling about the room as he spoke, gathering things from here and there.

“Still don’t know how to do it, though. This was an accident.” Rune remarked, holding out her hand to study the skin on her arms, now noticing that her nails looked more like talons.

“You’ll get there. We’ve got time, hopefully, for you to discover more about yourself. The stronghold is surprisingly close to the cave where Einar keeps the orbs and I can get us back there easily. For now, you should get some sleep, but I want to check your wounds from earlier first.” Vargr tossed her a few blankets and a new set of clothing.

“Are you qualified for that?” Rune joked, making claws with her hands as she flexed her fingers to imply that he usually had paws.

“I can take care of the wounded, but I summoned the healer instead.” Vargr winked as Speki came through the flap in the hut with a basket in hand and ushered Rune over to the stool so she could tend to her injuries.

“Oh.” Speki exclaimed, making a strange face as she looked at Rune’s wounds.

“What? What is it?” Rune looked down at the stitched skin, but realized that Speki’s exclamation wasn’t due to her injuries, but the mark that now spread down to almost her elbow and all the way to the hip on her right side. Except now it wasn’t a deep red birthmark, but a pale scar. She wasn’t born with the mark…she received it somehow.

“This isn’t a birthmark, is it, Vargr?” Rune lifted her eyes to meet his face; he looked ashamed.

“No, you can see that now.” Vargr held his head low.

It then clicked for Rune, “I guess my shape-shifting couldn’t really shift this, could it?”

“I guess not all the way. I can’t get—” Vargr was cut off by Rune.

“I know, you can’t get into it; I’m not even going to ask, at least not now. I’m too tired.” Rune exhaled, dropping the hem of her tunic as Speki finished her examination.

“She looks good, Vargr. Healing fast. I see that she has some prior injuries, but I assume you’re aware. If you need me, you know where to find me.” Speki nodded at her leader and then bowed to Rune before she exited the hut.

“You should get some sleep. I have a few things that I need to attend to, but you’re safe here. We’ll talk more in the morning.” Vargr nodded knowingly at her before he helped her from the stool and guided her back to the hay pile.

“Sure, more talk tomorrow.” Rune spoke out of exhaustion as she nestled into the hay and Vargr covered her with a blanket.

“Sleep sound, Rune.” Vargr whispered, but Rune was already comfortably asleep in her new skin.