Tid: En eftermiddag i juli tilbage i ca. år 1650
Sted: En fredelig eng i Island
Omgivelser: En skov et stykke væk, klippeskrænt ned til haven den anden vej, og lyng eng så langt øjet rækker, ellers.
Vejr: Solskin, skyfrit og vindstille.
Outfit: Lysebrune hørbukser og en simpel naturfarvet hørbluse, passende til perioden. Han har bare tæer.
@Andrea_________________________________________________________________
Sigh. This was so hard to get used to. He'd lost someone dear to him, yet again. it just seemed like nobody could get near him without getting killed, even other supernatural beings. He did know he himself was a banshee, after all, and that was why he'd already lived this long. But sometimes he did wish he'd died instead of all his loved ones. And this time, he'd really lost it. He hadn't ever used his scream before, but this time, he'd killed someone, namely the human who burned his boyfriend at the stake, thinking the fairy had been a witch.
Shame and guilt coursed through him as he walked through the peaceful meadow, one of the placed he'd used to come to with Olafur. He really missed him. They'd been together at least fifty years, and it was so hard having to deal with him being forever gone, now. He'd known it was going to go bad the moment the humans found them, his banshee senses telling him that Olafur's time had come. It was so unfair! Why did he have to know when people would die, and not be able to do anything about it?! He had been so pure, so perfect, not at all the monster the humans had through he'd been!
Arí clutched the small piece of cloth he had in his hand. It was the sash Olafur had always had around his waist, and it was the only thing left to remind him of his lover now. In the middle of the field, he slowly sat down on his knees, sniffling, before he closed his eyes and let a tear fall as he finally recited one of the old burial rites he'd witnessed in his childhood, in his native tongue which was by now a dead language - Old Norse.
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