Svala's eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light of the healing house, Haakon's warnings ringing in her ears. The coppery smell of blood and split viscera was as suffocating as the heat and the screams of pain and fear - and an unholy hunger. And there, just beneath the hideous chaos wafted a sickly sweet stench that turned her stomach, the stink of black blood she knew all too well, could never forget to her dying day. 

Survival required no thought, only reaction as Haakon slammed one charging draugr back. Tora was in here, and Vigi and even the companion of Orran, the Christian monk Anndrais - but... Was Orran here too? Where was her painted friend, her promised teacher -

Svala shouted with revulsion as she felt something wrap around the ankle of her booted foot, caught in an impossibly strong grip. Her axe blade swung down on a slender, pale wrist, but Amma did not scream - she was far, [i]far[/i] gone from the concerns of the living. The half of her that could still move, could still feed, still had another free hand that she swung clumsily at Svala. Bloody black intestines left a slimy trail over the dirt floor of the desecrated healing house, Amma's cloudy dead eyes focused hungrily on the living flesh that lay just beyond the young woman's skirts.

Svala screamed furiously, her axe swinging once, twice, the blade buried again and again in the draugr's skull. The stinking black blood arced over her head with every blow, even when the thing that was once Amma no longer moved. Svala lost all sense of time, of thought as motion became all, her axe blade biting into unliving flesh time and again, a snarl on her lips. 

But it was Haakon's shout that snapped her attention back to this world, like a much-needed slap in the chaos. She swiftly followed the path he carved out of the healing house, after the enormous thrall with the carved up back who carried Tora in his arms, out into the cool, grey morning light and Hallerna's waiting hands. 

She could only watch Svala's back disappear into the healing house after Haakon, just as the first of the injured who could still walk on their own, or assisted by family, friends began to appear. Hallerna swiftly inspected each for a bite mark before setting them down to the ground some distance from the healing house, every second that passed a small, agonizing eternity as she waited for her eldest daughter to emerge again. 

A small, strangled cry of relief choked Hallerna when Svala finally appeared after Tora and the slave Wilfred, whose torn back she had stitched only yesterday. She grabbed her daughter by the shoulders, yanking her closer before she began to pat down Svala's face, her neck and arms, dread and relief coursing through her veins in equal measure as she searched for the bloody, tell-tale semicircles that would only mean death. [b]"Were you bitten!?"[/b] Hallerna asked, desperate to hear the only answer that mattered to her in that moment. [b]"Svala - the draugr, did any bite you?"[/b]

[b]"No, Madir no [i]please[/i]... I am all right, not bitten, you see?"[/b] she asked, holding out her arms, axe still in hand even as she shook her head. Svala tried to smile, tried to give her mother some small reassurance. There was simply no time for anything more. Haakon's words were to ensure none of the draugr left the healing house, and so she pulled away from Hallerna, ready to take up a spot at the exit to see his words done -

[b]"Oh... Oh gods [i]Madir[/i] look!"[/b] Svala hissed, deep blue eyes wide with shock as she peered over Hallerna's shoulder, at the contingent of armed and armored raiders marching to the healing house, torches in hand.

[center]**********[/center]

Whatever childish resentments she might have kept disappeared like morning mist in the sun when Eyja saw Raudr sprinting beside her. Suddenly it did not matter that Raudr was only just a little older than she. Raudr had a shield, and he had a sword - or a dagger, or whatever it was, but it was still sharp she bet! And Raudr was saying all the right things too as he raced beside her, just like a grown-up would say - even if he was no taller than she was either. 

All Eyja had was her strong, fast legs and a rolled up drawing of a wolf on paper, getting scrunched up in her belt even now. There was little she would not give to have wolf teeth right now, wolf claws, for four faster wolf legs. With Raudr here though, there were four legs. He had a tooth and a claw, and they could be a pack - or at least she could pretend long enough to keep the fear from making her sick, and want to hide like her kitten Tore did. 

[b]"I'll stay... With you... Raudr... "[/b] Eyja panted, not slowing even the tiniest bit as she glanced at him from the corner of her eye, smiling her thanks widely as the pair flew along the icy, muddy roads past yet another long house.