[center][color=paleturquoise][h2]Grímhilðr Schwarzwald[/h2]
[img]http://i.imgur.com/DkCrz1j.jpg[/img]
[sub]Fuckboy Extraordinaire[/sub][/color]

[hider=music][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=42NIPZh01_E[/youtube][/hider][/center]
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Grímhilðr had found herself early awakened by Estelle, whom saw fit to feed a bird, for some reason that Grímhilðr could not process on her own. Who gave a shit about those flying poop machines. She'd spent more than a day once washing the shit of a giant eagle off the windscreens once. [i]Never again.[/i] She merely turned around and continued sleeping, pulling the covers further over her head. Snores were quick to follow as she fell back into her slumber, and slowly the soft, endearing snores turned into full blown snoring as she rolled back over onto her back. Her mouth was open wide and slowly some drool escaped her mouth, too, And so she kept up with her minimum of twelve hours of sleep, until finally she awoke and found the prowler to be devoid of life. 

Her arm swung back behind her head as she scratched the back of her head while a yawn escaped her mouth. Promptly she got up, looking lively as ever, and grabbed her shirt, pulling it over her head in a comical fashion, the horns holding back the shirt a bit before she finally forced it to go over her head. To finish off her already rather enticing appearance, she grabbed a black oversized baseball cap from her personal shelves above her bed, and fitted it over her head. Next up was her sunglasses - they were classic. All in all, if you disregarded her rather traditional shirt ([i]incluis shoulder pauldrons[/i]) she might've looked like some big guild operator-gunner type. Instead, she just looked like what she was. [i]A fuckboy.[/i]

The baseball cap fitted perfectly between her two horns, which were adorned with various linen wraps, which hung down and had beads on them. They were red and thus, matched rather well with her warpaint on her face, the thin red line with 'drips' downwards, and the single line below her lips. All in all she would've looked mighty ferocious if it weren't for the fuckboy apparel she donned. And even then, compared to some Dragnan, her horns weren't even [i]that[/i] big, in fact they were sort of small. [i]Hehe. But the rest of the crew didn't know that.[/i] In fact, if anything, those of Grímhilðr were very large compared to the only other Dragnan in the crew, Saffron. Then again Saffron was a mage, and mages were known to be, well, [i]pussies.[/i] 'twouldn't be the first time Grímhilðr gave him shit for that.

With a large jump, the 5'0 girl launched herself out of the prowler and she landed somewhere out in front of the village that they were currently camping out at. Would be a good time to go explore, she supposed. She strutted down the streets, looking fly as ever, glancing at people left and right. When finally she spotted some of the crew, she spotted, well, most of them all at once. Holy shit. Was that a pig!? [color=paleturquoise][b]“HOLY FUCKING SHIT IT'S A PIG!!”[/b][/color] she yelled out so loud that most of the people stopped dead in their tracks to stare at the girl. But Grímhilðr had no time to stop and apologize for being loud. She started sprinting towards the pig and once she got close enough, jumped high into the air. It was worth wondering [i]how[/i] that tiny girl managed to get so much airtime, since she was only 5'0 and didn't look particularly strong. 

As she launched herself, she landed on the pigs back, disrupting the scene entirely, scaring the pig with her sudden tackle. As expected, the pig tried to run away, but was held back by the rope that was attached to some pin in the ground. Grímhilðr knew how to fix that however, and reached back. [i]WHAPSH![/i] was the sound of her hand firmly slapping the pig on it's ass, and that was enough to send the pig in a insane dash, ripping the pin out of the ground and heading straight for the market. [color=paleturquoise][b]“YEEHAW!”[/b][/color] was the last thing the Shabu Shabu Crew would hear before Grímhilðr lost control of the pig entirely, and the pig barrelled through the nearby market stalls, the pin dragging behind it and swinging left and right.

Hm. Well. That might be a problem financially? [color=paleturquoise][b]“Rhein will pay for that!”[/b][/color] Oh, well. Maybe it wouldn't be a problem.