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The children of Watemflo village raced eachother along the waters edge, they splashed in the tiny waves the beach made. The kids loved the sound of water and had grown up along side the force of nature since they were born.

One girl stopped, hearing a roar off in the distance, it was much different than the roar of the water these mainly peaceful villagers had known for most of their lives. They were warriors but only when needed.

The border where the tree line meets the edge of the village began to rustle, the loud and playful sounds of the village letting the two silent warriors pace right on into the back of one of the tents.

The little girls eyes widen as she saw them enter, so she screamed at the adults roaming around the village, calling out the intruders. Then a bitter cry strangled out of the tent that the two went inside of. The little girls heart dropped, as she rushed through the crowd that had formed outside the tent, as they waited patiently for the intruders to show themselves.

Suddenly, someone was kicked out of the tent, stumbling into his hands and knees. A man. One that the little girl had seen before, but never came out on scouts with them. A harsh murmur spread through the crowd as a figure stepped out.

The little girl peaked around the legs to see the person. A woman, with light armour and half braided dark hair. She had red marks running vertically down her face, one for each eye. Her eyes pieced through the crowd like crystals. In her hand was a blade hilted with something as white as bone.

"Ai laik fiya chilnes stegeda of Floukru, you have ah Ripa, jaka, natonra." The woman speaks with an accent the girl can't pick, and speaks of a killer, thief and traitor in the village. She points down at the man on the ground. "Em, fragon twel yongon! Sen faya to nila stegeda!" He set fire to their village and killed children.

Several murmurs draw out from the village, and one calls the name of the woman. A name the little girl had only heard around camp fires. Pakstoka. The wolf spirit. The one who defies death and the commander.

Another woman steps out of the tent, one with fierce red hair and silver war paint. The other spirit trikfecha. The unlikely combination of Fox and Wolf.

"You can can chose what you want to do with him." Pakstoka states, kicking the man down in front of the elders. The leaders of our camp nod at Pakstoka, even though it is forbidden by Heda to let her live.

"You do what you must, Pakstoka, we have no need for a killer in our village. For the sakes of our children, get rid of the man." One of them steps forward, Pakstoka looks around. She locks eyes with the little girl, causing the child to suck in her breath.

"If I must." She finally says, leaning down and ties up the man's arms. Hoisting the man up and pushing her in front of him, she finally leaves. Leaving the little girl staring after her. Then as Pakstoka rounds the tent, the girl runs after the legend.

The girl comes to a stop once she sees there's no one behind it. Only that both Trikfecha and Pakstoka have disappeared along with the traitor.

It was only two days later when they found the body of the murderer. He was strung upside down from a tree, only one wound to his chest, a arrow with one letter carved into it.



Hello everyone and welcome to Fortitude! I'm so excited but nervous for this season. Y'all know what I mean.

Anyways big thank again to mikaelsonsalvatore for this stunning moodboard for Ava. I absolutely love it:

So go check out Thorns! It's absolutely amazing and you'll love Rosalie

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So go check out Thorns! It's absolutely amazing and you'll love Rosalie. Honestly one of my favourite fics right now.

Anyways vote, comment. Feedback is always welcome.

Thanks for reading :)

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