#space wolf oc

[treeheehoohoodraws]

Im going to color him

But SVERRE full body XDD

Actually my first time drawing Space Marine power armor

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Answer the Call

Prologue =-= Next

Author's note: Symith's debut in Husbandry!

Warnings: None. Let me know if I need to add anything.

Summary: Symith wakes up on a world he hadn't been on when he'd gone to sleep the night before.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k

Tagged continued: @i-am-a-dragon34

The last thing Symith remembers before waking up on this warmly temperate forest floor was celebrating a victory with his brothers. That consisted of feasting, drinking, and boasting of fights and stories of the glories of the past. He'd been very drunk and had helped, as well as been helped by a couple of his brothers as the staggered to their beds, singing and drinking loudly in the halls of their ship.

They'd collapsed in a drunken heap, and fell asleep, he knows that neither of them are on top of and/or next to him, because Vaskarl snores like a bad engine, due to a badly broken nose that hadn't been fixed and Alvunn had a tendency to kick when he slept, the bastard. So he's not Happy when he realizes he's just in his sleeping shorts and weaponless.

He gets up, glad that his Space Marine Constitution means that he doesn't get a Hang Over that base line humans complain about if they drink too much. He takes in a couple of deep breaths through his nose as he looks around trying to gather his Barings. He can smell some pollution in the air, that means that civilization is somewhere on this planet, even if he can't see it at the moment.

Shrugging his shoulders he looks around and tilts his head to the side as he tries to hear for a river or stream as he scratches one of his cheeks as he starts to slowly spiral out from where he was placed. He wonders if this is a 'surprise' training session or if some of his naughty little shit Scouts had decided to prank him and his fellow Sergeants by separating them and putting them on a safe, if unknown planet and were watching and snickering at him from a distance.

If that's the case, he's going to find them, scold them for their audacity, and tell them he was impressed that they managed to pull of something like this. And to impress upon them to Never. Do This. Again. By having them run training sessions until they cried mercy, which he'd only grant two more cycles later.

Pups, could be, should be rowdy at times, but also need to learn respect and to listen to those who know better and have more experience and age under their belts. He'd learned of the Larger Pups- er Primaris Marines. They are an… interesting bunch, getting them to warm up to the rest of them had taken patience and skill.

Some of his brothers had been… uncertain about the pups, but they gotten to know them. Good pups, Large, strong, clever, good hunters. Just need to sharpen their teeth, but that comes with age and time and battles won. As he continued to explore the forest, he finds a river and watches how active it is and slowly scoops up a handful of water and drinks from it.

The water is nice and cool, refreshing, and only a hint of pollution making it bitter on his tongue. Watching it's flow he nods his head a little and starts to walk along the water's edge downstream. Most civilizations build along, around, or near sources of water. Unless some other reasons, environmental or dangers, made them build farther away.

He continues to walk, it's a nice forest, filled with life and greenery. He's used to the bitter ice and cold of Fenris, but more temperate worlds can be a treat to relax on from time to time. It takes several hours, but he hears the sounds of civilization a lot sooner than his sight starts to see the outline of base line human built buildings.

He hears the sound of city life clammer out cacophonously as he hears the… hm… He doesn't recognize the language that the locals are speaking, which will make things difficult. Well, time to see how these base liners react to partial nudity and Astartes in nothing but shorts.

The reactions from base line humans can be hilariously entertaining at times. Some can't stop but stare at his form, as muscular and strong as he is. Their eyes tracing his scars and what not. He's walking through the city and is amused to see the way that the base line humans to double takes and sometimes gawk at him. One of them is on a miniature data-slate, tapping away at it furiously and several minutes later some Imperial Fists show up. Boo. They can be No Fun at times.

As they head over to him, the Imperial Fist in Charge taking off his helmet and saying, "Greetings Cousin, I am Brother Captain Castor Polion of the Imperial Fists. What's your name?"

"I am Brother Sargent Symith of the Space Wolves, Fourth Company," Symith says with a drawl, "And before you say anything. I woke up in a forrest several hours on foot in the south-westerly direction."

They explain to him where, and when he is, and how randomly Space Marines from various Eras would arrive. It didn't seem to matter when or where they were from. Which Legion or Chapter, as well as which Alignment they are from. They also explain about the Alliance between the various factions, in order to not tear apart Ancient Terra.

He's not sure how he feels about that, but so long as the non-imperial factions don't start shit he won't. He tells them as such. The Imperial Fist Brother Captain nods in agreement and he decides to follow the lot of them back to their base.

He's glad to have more clothes and shoes, and a bit grumpy, but understanding that they don't have armor for him. What with it being damn impossible to make more in Ancient Terra. Still, he'd like to have something more than cloth to protect himself.

They likely want him to prove himself before arming him, as much as it chafes, it makes sense that they would have to be cautious and hoard their resources on this precious lonely blue pearl of a planet.

[idle-skull]

Woof

[lore-pls]

tmw you do a dumb little sketch of an OC idea and immediately realize you love this idiot

[toastchild]

SOMEONE NEEDS 2 BULLY ME INTO FINISHING THESE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[taddymason]

Alone in the darkness They're coming for you I know they will try to catch me too

the doomed father and daugther duo

[0bananadog0]

Russ and his happy little cubs

[platinummice]

Hey guys can you watch my puppy dog he don’t bite

[meangreennunseen]

Posting helmetless version separately, because why the hell not?

*sniff* my stupid Deathwatch sons.

Adding helmet version, cause I want both arts in one place after all...

[plaidpyjamas]

I wonder how the Yautja view depression (is there any canon evidence of them dealing with someone with depression? 👀)

Do they see it as a weakness? Or would you be thought of as more tough because you manage to fight off suicidal ideation and unpleasant symptoms all day every day, on top of functioning in the world? What about the days when you just.... can't? What would your yautja s/o do - would they do whatever they could to help you? Or would they leave you be, watching from a distance, until you got back on your feet?

Maybe one day, after a few days of being stuck in bed after an even worse couple of weeks, you wake up to a clean new skull on your bedside table. You'd been feeling a little extra sad with your partner gone (especially since you weren't sure where he was) but this gift puts a smile of your face for the first time in days. So he was on a hunt, off finding you a suitable trophy in an attempt to cheer you up. And it worked, if only a little. When you finally get up, wrapping yourself in a blanket and heading out to the kitchen, you see your Yautja there cooking something. Whatever it is it smells fantastic. You come up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist, stretching a bit to try and clasp your hands together. He huffs out a small laugh at your attempt and places a hand over yours. The two of you stand there in comfortable silence while your Yautja finishes cooking. You feel a bit better, for the time being.

[corvid-canidae-art]

Sketchies from today! Finally am able to use procreate again so I had fun ^^ deinonychus, deinonychus harpy, my kinsona in his dragon form, and John from malevolent!

[treeheehoohoodraws]

Okay so

Yeah I just made Tip into mechanicus priest yeah yeah yeah woo I love him XD

and the other guy is Sverre! my Space Wolf oc

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Calls of the Lost

Author's notes: Smyith's debut in Mermay And Poor Unfortunate Souls AU!

Warnings: None I think? Let me know if I need to add more

Summary: Smyith is with some younger brothers and cousins as they are out on a patrol. He notices that a

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @kit-williams, @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k

Tagged Again: @sleepyfan-blog and @whorety-k

Tagged continued: @i-am-a-dragon34

Smyith thanked the All-father and counted his blessings, he knows that it's a rare thing to have lived when he'd thought he'd be torn apart by that wretched Demon Arvax, may he rot and die eternally in Hel and be denied entrance to Valhalla. He has been swimming in this mixed shoal of Loyalists Legions and Chapters- helping the youngsters hone their skills and sharpen their skills and teeth, while keeping his hone to proper sharpness. He eyed the skies of Ancient Terra and scents the wind, calling out to the younger cousins and brothers a warning.

"A storm's brewing, time to swim deeper beneath the waves," Smyith tells them. "My nose tells me a storm approaches."

With that he puts his helmet back on, some of the youngest grumble and whine a little, but with a light smack to the back of the helm they settle down with some minimal sulking. One of the youngsters in bright blue and gold, an Ultramarine asks him with curiosity in his voice and posture.

"How can you tell a storm is coming Elder Cousin?"

"I have lived on many worlds for several hundred years," He starts his explanation, "And I've learned how to tell that the weather is shifting for the worse by scent and the way the clouds and winds interact with the skies."

The younger ones are now huddling closer to him and peering up at the sky popping their heads up try to see better, and figure out what he meant by that. He hears some more questions and tries to answer them the best he can, mostly confusing the younger space marines more and he just says, "Experience and age."

They follow after their elder brothers, when that same young Ultramarine seems to be lingering above the water, looking in a particular direction. He sighs and pops his head up and says, "Lad, back down in the deep."

"Sir- there's a baseline ship a few hundred meters that way," The youngster says.

Smyith heaves a sigh and looks in the direction the youngster is gesturing and notices the ship and the way that the base line humans seem to be puttering around on the ship, and unfortunately, from the way the ship is moving, the base line humans haven't noticed, yet that there is going to be a nasty storm that's going to churn the ocean waves quite viciously in a few hours. Granted, base line humans aren't as acute in their senses. And there is much that the Ancient Humans of Terra do not know about.

"I'll warn them," Smyith says, "You head back with the rest of the pod back to the temporary base."

"Yes sir," The young Ultramarine says with a nod as he turns and swims with the rest of the mixed shoal of space marines, of chapters and ages alike.

Some of the space marines from the far future are... terribly strange and almost incomprehensible with their differences. But they likely think the same way of those of them from earlier times, especially much earlier. He can't help the way his lips twitch in a teasing grin as he thinks of how the King of Fenris would react to some of the youngest of the space wolves, and from the furthest in time's reaction to "nine primarchs". Which is blatant revisionism. Also, with how they've almost turned Father into a God, and has very much turned the emperor into a deific figure. That has him wincing, by the Throne on Terra, he'd like it not at all. Although some of his ranting would be really entertaining. Also, Leman's reaction to The Imperial Regent being the 13th Primarch would be, at turns, entertaining and annoying to deal with. He's glad for his new lease on life, even though he misses his first pack and brothers like someone's ripped one of his hearts from his chest.

"Humans," He calls out, hoping they speak one of the base line languages he's learned a little of.

There's some excited chatter in one of the near countless languages, they are all speaking rapidly as he patiently waits for one of them to approach them. Humans could be so skittish, yet most on Ancient Terra could be very Bold, or at least Very Bold for the standards of base line humans from the time that he's come from. Thinking about time travel is something for Rune Priests and Nerds. Kark, could he use a drink.

"Storm approaches, head to land," Smyith says carefully, slowly in one of the Ancient Terran languages.

"Our instruments don't say that one's coming," One of the humans says with a mild frown as they look at something and then at the sky.

"I can smell one coming; it will arrive in a few hours." Smyith says trying not to growl. Base line humans could be so... frustrating to deal with at times. "Heed my words and live, don't and die during a storm. Your choice."

With that he sinks below the waves and out of the sight of the base line humans. He's still able to watch and hear them. He's not actually not going to let any of the idiot base line humans die if he can help it. A couple of the little shits that he's traveling with have come swimming over to him peering up to watch the human’s squabble amongst themselves.

"We'll save them from themselves if they don't make the safe decision," Smyith tells the youngster who nods and swims off to inform the rest of the group of his decision.

At least the humans take their boat and start to head back to shore, which is nice, he and a few of the pod of loyalists shadow them, hidden and unseen from under the water as the humans make it back to shore before the storm starts going. He and his pod swim back to where the base is. Storm watching is fun, and interesting to see from underneath the waves. It can be terribly dangerous, but something every Aspirant of the Space Wolves was dared to do to prove their worth.

[chaoskull]

J. Doyle Penrose - Idun and the Apples

Feast of Hope

Space Wolf Oc x Gn!Reader

Summary: On a mission, looking for a possible threat on a planet, Helgi finds a kind human in the midst of a emotionally desperate moment.

Based this one mostly in the image of the painting. I had this guy on the back of my mind for a little while, finally decided on showing him, hope you like it!

A tender world, no harsh ice winds covered its surface, only but a breeze of the fields, a green land that had come to bless the long awaiting wolf, Helgi was no stranger to hotter climates, although they would only come in times of war, where blood was bound to be found.

Some of his brothers accompanied him, out of the grassland, into the woods, no forest as what he heard from tales of other worlds, this one is bright, filled with life, and light that seeps through the canopy of the tall, slim trees. The vibrant vegetation gave him comfort he could never seek on the surface of Fernis.

They head to the heart of the forest, what is to be done, he hasn't been told - merely that they were to kill, as if that was not their duty already - if he was to question anything about the mission the much older astartes of the group would definitely start to complain, as he would always do.

That is until they reach a clearing, they sat themselves on rocks there present, it's been a long travel, walking on foot, as they were told to not disturb the humans present in this planet, ‘Screw them, should have brought those ravens if it was needed to do that’ he reasons.

Helgi was no beginner in tracking, he had many years of servitude, he knew when something felt different in an ambient, as they start discussing what is to be done he notices a smell in the air of fresh fruit, the forest, as he observes, had nothing green and yellow leaves.

The others did not seem bothered by it, but he was, Helgi had not eaten anything since the landing he had been distracted, he was highly alerted of his surroundings, he'd been drinking before the mission again, even though I was clear to him that this would soon destroy him.

Before the sickness stopped he felt no hunger, but as they sat and talked, he wasn't so lightheaded anymore, the dizziness had left and now he was starting to feel starved.

Deciding to end this quickly he got up to seek this smell, the older man was not content with the action. “Helgi, where are you heading to?!” He shouted from his seat.

“I'm starving, you old drunk” He barked back at the man and spat on the floor. “Ha, well look who says that, you were stumbling like an idiot the entire ride on the ship here, boy” The man laughs, it was merely playful banter between the two, though aggressive, they were both accustomed with it by now.

It still hurt Helgi deeply to hear that, he knew most of his brothers had their burdens, but his being so obvious to others it made him feel less than them. He wasn't a new recruit any longer, he was getting old, he had nothing to himself, it was an honor to be an astartes, but he had none left at times he wasn't battling.

Others kept their distance as he left, but the older man followed him. “What are you looking for, you hopeless bastard?” He asked, patting the man on the shoulder.

“Smelled fruit” He answers, he didn't care what was there to eat, though he'd definitely prefer a nice piece of meat. The older man snickers in amusement, not expecting such a response.

They both find the source of the smell not too far, sitting on a rock, eating said fruits, Helgi finds a little human. They recognize them as astartes, space wolves most likely, and quickly take the box where they stored the fruits ready to take a leave, not just from slight fear, but from reverence as well.

Though they were interrupted by a growling sound, it came from the belly of the younger man, and the older one started to laugh at him. They were left confused, he was hungry, they opened the box to offer a fruit to the man.

Helgi felt as his life had come from misery to a miracle in an instant, the two astartes approached his savior, kneeling to get as close as possible to their sitting stature.

They handed him a red ripe fruit, it was big in their hand, when he took it it seemed times smaller, taking a bite of it he almost devoured it whole, juice dripping from his hand, it was just as sweet as it looked.

“You want more, my lord?” He lifted his head to the sound of the voice, met with a gentle smile a hand held another in front of him, dangling in their fingers. His head falls to their lap, loosening his grip of the fruit, it rolled through the grass.

The older man was sitting near the scene, about to make fun of him. He looked at them and decided to leave instead, returning to do a mission with the others, who were too watching while they waited, without Helgi noticing.

What he saw was a blessing, he wanted to take you to Fernis, he couldn't leave you on this planet, he was a selfish man. This forest was a distant paradise, and you were an angel, one not made by imperium means, one made of kindness.

He wonders what you must make of him, he was barely holding his tears, and yet you placed your hands on his hair, slowly running them along his red mane.

Leaning his head up to meet your gaze, one hand travels down to scratch his bearded cheeks only to move it away his face, leaving him yearning for more.

Taking the fruit and holding it close to his mouth, Helgi lets you feed him, he was chewing slowly this time as to savor it, truth is he wanted to have far more time in your hold. He'll have only a memory of your gentle expression, if not to leave with you today.

“Come with me, It’s cold on Fernis, but I'll give you my warmth, I promise you, let me” He begs, leaning closer to your face. “I'm a failure at everything my legion stands for, I'm not prideful of my actions, I'm not nice to be around, I can't make myself likable”

“You say a lot of negative things about yourself, I'm certain most are not true, my lord” They comment, trying to make the man less desolate.

He looks at you, eyes imploring for you to depart with him. “I shall take my leave with you if that is wish for, I'll become your serf”

“No little one, not a thrall, I will cherish you, you'll be mine to spoil” He grins at them, he suddenly gets up, much faster than what they would expect for a man who was just inconsolable moments before. He holds their hand, drawing circles on their palms.

“Helgi, you done?!” A yell is heard not far from where they were.

“I believe in you, lord Helgi” They get up and take the box in their hands, hugging it close to their chest. Having such an immense height difference, they crane their head up to look at him.

“Enough with the lord stuff” He huffs back at them, grabbing them, he pulls them closer to himself and runs one hand on their back, almost engulfing them in the pelts around his belt.

“Ha, got yourself a spouse, that's surprising!” The older wolf shouts as he laughs, suddenly appears from behind the bushes and trees, covered in what was most likely blood and guts of an unknown creature.

“They are not!” Helgi retorts the old man's remark, he leans closer to their head. “...yet” He mumbles, leaving them with a shocked, embarrassed expression, he chuckles at the sight.

Thank you for reading this little thing from my mind!

[remembrancersticky]

I had a shower epiphany a few weeks ago and have just been working on cranking out this oneshot. Oh, I had so much fun with this. Thanks to @squishyowl for the dividers! They are very pretty!

You get dragged along for a fishing trip, scent a space wolf, and he carves your name onto his (metaphorical?) heart. Fenrysian is just Norwegian here for the sake of simplicity. Very fluffy given this is 40k. TW for hunting, non-sexual nudity, and cannon-typical violence. Asmundr art here and here.

Space Wolf OC(Asmundr) x Serf!Fem!Reader - SFW - 2.8k Words

The world of Silġ was not the coldest you had ever been to. But it was still the thickest part of winter on this side of the planet, and you could feel the moisture of your breath catch and freeze against your eyelashes when the wind shifted.

You waddled behind the three wolves you served today, waylaid by the heaviest furs and boots you owned and the sled-cart you pulled along behind you. The blizzard that had raged for the last month ended a few days ago, though the warp storm that trapped your ship here had not. The sky still sputtered out a sporadic scattering of snow, powdering the dense ice on which you tread.

The three in front of you wore no more than training armor and pelt. You were envious of their enhanced thermo-regulation as you flexed your fingers to stave off the chill that had seeped through your thick mittens.

“Here,” the venerable veteran, Ægir, announced, stabbing his chainsword into the ice.

You slowed as you caught up to the group and looked about. You were the only thing besides flat ice for several kilometers in any direction.

“Finally!”

The youngest, Asmundr, was not known to keep his opinions to himself at the best of times. He was brash and stubborn in every aspect of his life. He was the one that insisted you join them on this venture.

The company and ship’s crew were trapped on Silġ until the warp storm passed. You had already been stuck more than several weeks and many of the younger warriors were antsy for activity beyond their regular training. And, while rations were not depleted, it did no harm to secure supplementary provisions while they were available. Ergo, the Wolf Lord had allowed the formation of a few small hunting parties.

While you assisted the entire pack as your services were needed, Asmundr had all but named you as his personal serf. Not that he had asked anyone in particular, nor would he ever be granted a personal serf given his rank and status if he had. He was simply dogged in requesting your time, specifically. Not that you minded spending so much time with him; he had grown on you quite a bit, and you enjoyed the stories he would regale you with as you cared for his armor.

And so, here you were. Accompanying the small expedition on their fishing trip. You had given up on getting an explanation for exactly what you were meant to do beyond ferry equipment or attend to whatever unfavorable task may arise. Frankly, it was simply a nice change of pace from the monotony of the last few weeks, nice to be away from the stagnant air of the ship, and you were thankful to have been allowed to attend.

Hodr swiped his boot along the ground to disturb the thick layers of snow and reveal the solid ice beneath. Though not as old as Ægir, the scars upon his face told a story of numerous battles fought with unfettered ferocity. He was cold, stoic, but on occasion you glimpsed something wild lurking deep within his eye.

After stomping solidly on the ice without so much as a crack, Hodr gave a nod to Ægir, who activated his chainsword.

Still stuck in the ice, the blade began throwing up shards of ice and compact snow. You turned slightly and covered your face with a mitten to prevent anything from lodging in your eyes. You felt the pitter patter of debris against your form suddenly disappear. Looking up, it seemed Asmundr unthinkingly shifted his position to effectively shield you from the onslaught.

“Mortal,” Hodr called, as the roar of the sword died down. “Bring the pick and shovel.”

You pulled the tools from the sled and made your way to the hole-in-progress. In order to support the weight of three space marines (and especially the earlier stomping), the ice was undoubtedly thick. This pass with the chainsword had not even been close to reaching the water below. Hodr reached down to grapple with the large slab of ice that had been cut away while you worked on extricating the smaller shards. Once the site was cleared, Asmundr gently pulled you a step back as Ægir began his next series of cuts. This process repeated three times before a sufficient opening was formed.

Standing, you wiped the snow off of your knees and pushed the ice shards nearest the opening away with your boot. Suddenly, you felt something thick and heavy land across your back and weigh down on your shoulders. You were almost embarrassed about the surprised yelp you let out, but it was worth it to hear the youngest of the wolves let out a full bellied laugh.

“I trust you to keep this warm for me, vennen min!” Asmundr’s voice bounced with mirth behind you. You rearranged the large pelt he had thrown on you as you turned to face him. And quickly decided to look anywhere else as he undressed to the fullest extent possible.

“O-Of course, my lord.” You elected to keep your head pointed towards the sky as you extended your hands to take the remainder of his clothes. You could clearly hear the other two wolves snickering behind the sound of blood rushing through your ears. It did not seem nearly as cold out as it did just a few minutes ago.

Asmundr placed the wad of clothes in your hands with a smirk before leaning into the sled to fetch his polespear.

“Be ready, brother,” Ægir said as he nudged Hodr bodily. “You’ll have to make up the pup’s slack.”

The young pup bristled in agitation before he sharply pivoted on his brothers with a note of forced laughter. Coincidentally, you suddenly received a full view of all his glory.

“Ha! Afraid you’re not gonna be able to keep up, old man?”

You forced your eyes not to wander below his ribs, which was very difficult as he stood with his chest puffed out and fists confidently resting on his hips. Your face felt so hot that you thought the ice would melt under your feet and swallow you whole.

Despite your years in service to the Vlka Fenryka, you doubted that you’d ever understand just how…comfortable they seemed to be in their plain skin. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact they were Astartes, specifically. You’d imagine it would be difficult to feel vulnerable in any state with the physique of one of the Emperor’s Angels.

“Worried that you’ll drive the best game away in your haste.” Hodr’s voice sounded suddenly closer than you anticipated. Your heart jumped when you felt his hand reach around from behind you, lifting your chin to look Asmundr in the eyes and gently squishing your cheeks together. “It just won’t do if there isn’t enough to go around.” The narrowing of the younger wolf’s pupils was almost hidden by the steam billowing from his flared nostrils. “We can’t have thralls of skin and bone.” His whisper tickled your ear, sending a shiver shooting up your spine.

“I do not leave her wanting,” Asmundr snarled, closing the distance and gripping Hodr’s wrist tightly. You could hear something creak beneath your chin, but the grip on your face never tightened.

“Prove it.” You could hear Hodr’s grin as he finally released you.

Oh, something in Asmundr’s eyes sparked as he threw his brother’s hand away. He spared you a brief glance as he squared his shoulders and quickly cracked his neck.

“Time me!” Asmundr yelled back to Ægir as he raced to the opening and jumped into the abyss.

The air was pregnant with silence for a moment.

“Well,” Ægir laughed, rough and gravelly, “He should be plenty motivated now!”

Ten minutes. It had already been ten minutes.

A space marine could hold his breath for approximately twenty-five minutes, or so you’d been told.

You had heard from one of the company’s Kaerls that she had once heard a story of a chapter that regularly held their breath for the better part of a standard hour. You thought it sounded a bit outlandish, but you prayed now it was true as the minutes continued ticking on.

The first several minutes were spent in a bit of an awkward silence. Or, at least, you felt it was awkward. You busied yourself by meticulously folding Asmundr’s clothes and running an inventory of the little equipment in the sled before cleaning the hole of any lingering debris. You noted that Hodr’s gaze seemed to return the distant tree line frequently while Ægir whittled away on a piece of bone.

“It’s been ten minutes.” The booming voice of the veteran seemed to rattle through your chest, and you nearly lost your footing at the sudden announcement.

 The undignified sound you made as you recovered your stance drew a chuckle from the eldest wolf.

“I’m curious,” Ægir said, pointing his knife in your direction. “What do you suppose the pup’s hunting for right now?”

You stared blankly at him.

“Fish, my lord?”

That veteran laughed, tried to control himself, and began laughing some more before he started coughing.

“You’re not wrong, thrall,” he conceded. You watched a flock of dark birds chitter and flee their roost in the distance. So far away they were like a smear against the sky.

“You know,” he started back up, dropping his gaze to return to the bone figure he was making. “I was out on campaign with the pup.” A thin flake fell away from his hands. “And it was fierce, to be sure. Well, while we were holed up in some throne-forsaken pit, the daft boy starts singing. Badly, mind you, and quiet, but singing nonetheless. And so, I ask him ‘Boy, what do you think you’re doing?’” Ægir looked up and you realized that you’d thoughtlessly drifted closer as the veteran continued. “And do you know what he tells me?”

“No, my lord.”

“He says, ‘Well, that little serf sings this when she’s in the armory, and I thought maybe it would help me focus.’” Another flake fell from his hand as he scoffs, “Focus, my missing big toe.”

Ægir looked like he was about to continue, loudly, but shut his mouth and looked past you a moment before you heard it.

A loud wet thwacking noise echoed across the empty plane and time seemed to pass slower than usual as you saw a vibrant, gleaming, blue fish that could rival the stature of terminator power armor surge out of the icy depths and caress the grey sky, before making its arched decent like an angry torpedo with needlepoint teeth.

You hadn’t survived this long in such a cruel galaxy without any wits at all, and ran to give the beast a wide berth upon its impact with the surface. Its furiously flailing body splashed little droplets of water against your form, which froze solid in the cold air.

“Ha! No wonder he likes you so much,” Ægir ribbed at you, as he seamlessly stabbed the wriggling thing through the back of its head, piercing whatever brain it could have. “You scurry about like ei lita kanin!”

The burning retort that had definitely been on the tip of your tongue was tragically cut short by a sudden series of muted vibrations that traveled up your legs. Something was hitting the ice…

Your feet were moving before you could think. What help could you realistically offer Asmundr from here? You could not dive into the freezing water, you could not drag him back to safety, you could not even pull his body up onto shore without dislocating your shoulder in the attempt. But you knelt stupidly by the hole anyways; you had to be as close to his side as possible, in case he needed you. Because you would do all those useless things if he so much as hesitated in telling you not to.

Not long after, the surface of the water began bursting with bubbles of air from the depths, bringing with them deep oily blood. You called out to him, as if he would be able to hear you meters away and underwater.

“Mundi! Are you okay?!”

Time seemed to drag on for an eternity as the bubbling died down and the water remained still.

You had just started to loosen the straps of your outermost layers to dive in yourself when a crimson streak began racing towards the surface. You could feel your heart fall back into place.

Asmundr’s red hair clung to his forehead and neck as he beamed at you in pride. Or, as best he could.

The spear he lifted out of the water held four native fish, each easily as long as your arm and thicker around than both of your thighs. A massive bony fish with pearlescent armor still wiggled in his maw, cracked where his fangs dug tightly into its flesh. He threw the spear up onto the ice before hefting his bulk out of the hole.

Sitting on the ledge of the ice beside you, he pulled the fish from his teeth. His smug smile showcased the gleaming red that clung to his canines and dripped down his chin. He glanced about briefly before his expression morphed into one of confusion.

“Where’s Hodr?”

Oh. You hadn’t even noticed he’d left.

“Not far,” Ægir said. “He picked up a scent while you were out.”

“Are you okay, Mundi?” You had been keenly looking him over for any obvious injuries he may have sustained since he surfaced. He didn’t seem any worse for wear, but maybe he just rammed the ice with his thick head. You stood up to get a better look. “It sounded like you hit the ice pretty hard.”

“What are you talking about? I wasn’t near the ice at all.” Rivulets of water trickled down Asmundr’s body, his core temperature just enough to keep the water from freezing against his skin in the cold air. “Are you sure you’re not the one that hit the ice?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to be annoyed by his teasing tone. You were just relieved that he was okay.

Asmundr’s gaze turned sharply from you to the horizon at a noise you could not hear.

“Finally done batting that pest around, Hodr?”

You turned towards Ægir’s call and watched as Hodr dragged along an enormous, white-feathered land-shark behind him.

“Six minutes,” the wolf bellowed, shaking the leg of his kill. “How long was the pup?”

“Thirteen minutes!”

Something rumbled deep in Asmundr’s chest at the veteran’s announcement and he huffed in irritation. If you hadn’t just been willing to throw yourself into the icy void after your companion out of shear worry, you would have found his pouting cute.

“Mundi,” you started softly as he plopped himself away from his brothers to work on his kills. He did not look up. He was still wet and bare and the wind was still so cold and you did not think you could handle the implausible thought of him catching a chill.

“Mundi, you need to dry off,” you chided as you unwrapped the outermost fur you wore from your waist. It would be warmer and drier than the one he placed on your shoulders, which had kept you plenty warm, but also collected a non-insignificant amount of flurries.

He grumbled something as he continued to work on dislodging his kills from the spear.

You pursed your lips before running the fur across his shoulders and up his neck, before tousling his hair the best you could. You left the fur draped across his shoulders, which he gripped closed across his chest with one hand. He remained incredibly tense before in-taking sharply and shaking his upper body vigorously. You did not escape the resulting splatter.

He tilted his head back to look you in the eyes, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you recognized amusement and joy in them.

“I’m keeping this!” Asmundr announced, sounding very pleased. “But you have to hold onto this,” he tugged slightly at the pelt that still engulfed the entirety of your upper body, “for me, in return.”

The request turned something in your chest.

“Of course,” you agreed, and you couldn’t help the smile on your lips.

 He smiled up at you in turn, his eyes softening as his gaze lingered. In that moment, it felt as if something in the universe had clicked into place. After a few seconds, he abruptly looked back down and dragged the armored fish over to him.

“And,” he drew the word out for a long moment, as he began carving familiar runes into the pearlescent plating with his spear. “You need to make good use of this.” He passed you the fish barring your name, and you had to steel yourself to keep from tumbling under the weight of it.

[candyswirls]

It's your favorite feral toddler! Garm Russ, child of Leman Russ. Got sharp teefs under those lips. They bite Cato Sicarius the next part of their story. It's their warp given right.

Plain and sparkly background.