[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/LpX2T1W.png[/img][/center]
[center][h3][color=ff8d02][b]Location: Approaching the Valley from the North[/b] [/color][color=D17B0F]||[/color][color=ff8d02] [b]Travelling with his Men[/b] [/color][color=D17B0F]||[/color][color=ff8d02]  [b]Mood: Sombre[/b][/color][/h3]
[i]Collab with [/i][@Filthy Mudblood]
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The furs and leathers masked the heavy footfalls of the northern tribe as they approached the Gathering. It had been a good six day's travel to reach the camp, though the journey had gotten easier as it had progressed. Snow had thawed, rocky terrain had smoothed into rolling hills and then gentle plains, and now they walked across the valley, catching the smell of a porkroast on the wind, their spirits lifting as some of their number catcalled ahead in jest.

Rimguage's skulls, bones and trophies clinked with a hollow resound as he approached. Behind him the bannermen held the symbol of Wolfrahg high, some of the younger men howling like wolves as they approached, only to then be chastised by the middle aged mothers in the clan who whacked them curtly round the back of the head. His eyebrow quirked in amusement - about as much as you'd ever get out of Rimguage in public - and only then had he realised the stony expression he wore today was real and not just a social ploy. He thought back to the recent wound that caused him so much pain...

[i]...The air was cool but the pair of them didn't mind. Moss made a cozy bower, and the canopy stretched above them, leaves damp from the now-melted morning frost. Birds chirruped, and she lay beside him, looking beautiful among the wildflowers, so small he could hardly believe she wasn't a fairy. The sunlight filtered through the leaves in rays, lighting up her face and stealing away into her eyes which glittered with their gift. He'd brought furs for them to keep them cozy, but it hardly seemed to matter.
Rimguage hadn't realised he'd been staring when she spoke.

"You're mine, you know."

Her hand reached up to touch his raven hair, fingertips weaving in and out of the strands. There had never been an exact moment for her that she had suddenly realised he was beautiful; it had happened gradually, like a flower blooming. His pale eyes were enchanting, the mark on his cheek alluring. Instead of finding his size intimidating, Valerie felt safe and secure in his arms - as if nothing would ever hurt them...Of course, she was wrong.

"You'll always be mine, Rimguage. And I'll always be yours."

It took alot to make a man like Rimguage smile, but it cracked across his face now like water breaking through rock.

"Of course. Who's going to boss me around otherwise?" came his deadpan reply, but that was the way he joked around. His arms snaked around her and he pulled the tiny doll close to his chest, placing his hands near the curves of her back. He curled up around her and breathed in the soft scent of her hair. "Aye, you're a good woman Valerie. I'll always be yours. If I had my way, I'd hold you forever like this." but his voice dropped to a whisper, as thoughts of the future broke into his mind.

"Sweet love, Valerie. Pixie Valerie. You and I both know this day would come, and it comes too soon for both of us." his eyes fell then, unseen to her, and while many would never be able to see his upset, the ragged breaths that filled his chests with sudden movement gave himself away to his childhood sweetheart. The only girl he'd ever loved.

"We can't see each other like this no more, pet. I'm due to be married on the morrow following the Gathering." his grip tightened ever so slightly around her. Rimguage didn't want to give her up. The thought of her lying in another man's arms... having bairns together, raising a family, growing old. If only he could elope with her, like they'd discussed when they were younger... but no, the chains of duty held him strong. It was his destiny as future Chieftain. And this was the last moment they would have.

Her lover's words, despite everything, still surprised her. She felt her heartbeat quicken and a dull ache make itself known in her chest. Valerie supposed she should be angry; at the clan, at him, at her, but the time for anger had passed. There was nothing they could do now. She recalled the fleeting period of bliss when everything was years away and they had only each other to worry about. Everything had been so bright, and so hopeful back then. Now the only man she had ever loved was marrying another woman. Would she be loving, beautiful? So many questions had been asked, demanded even, but no answers had been given.
"Promise me one thing, my love."

Even after her years spent with what she now called her clan, Valerie's voice still had the whispers of an accent of the South. She shivered a little against Rimguage's embrace - she rarely showed fear or sadness, her face a mask of rebellion, but now her eyes were shining with emotion. She could never hide anything from him, not now and not ever. Although she felt the pressure of unshed tears, she held them back. Valerie never cried.

"You must be happy. I want you to grow old and grey with little lads and lassies all claiming your name. I want you to forget about me and love your wife as I love you." Every essence of her being was wishing the next day would never come, and her mind pleaded with whoever was in control to just stop time right there. She felt her sweetheart's broad chest rise and fall with barely concealed emotion and it hurt her more. She would give anything to lessen his pain. Whoever this woman was, she would treat him right - like a proper wife should. Valerie was never cut out to be the bride of a Chieftain; so this was better for him. It had to be. 

Rimguage's voice cracked then. "oh sweet, even now you're the better one of us. Though it pains me to think of you with another, I can't bear to think of you unhappy. I'll never forget you, I won't and I can't, know my heart will always be with you. But live your life with that passion of yours, and make it a happy one, so that should we meet in the afterlife we'll have lots of stories to tell each other." and for the first time since he was a child, teals rolled down Rimguage's cheeks, and he buried his thoughts in her hair, and his love in her chest. [/i]

"Look at that banquet! Fit for kings, as always!" came the grizzly voice of one of the clansmen, ripping Rimguage out of his revelry. That was right - there was no point in dwelling on the past. He stood a little straighter, raised his gaze a little higher. Today he would feast with the other clans, make merry and see old friends he'd missed. Perhaps he'd meet his betrothed... and tommorrow. Tommorrow he would marry. 

[center][hider=Skills][list][*][b][color=F2A541]Occult:[/color][/b][color=cccccc] Rimgauge was gifted and received tutelege from the Shamans of his clan. He is good at interpretting occult or magickal energies, and can act on them as needbe. [/color][*][b][color=D17B0F]Presense:[/color][/b][color=cccccc] As future Chieftan, and as a pretty imposing man anyway, Rimguage has an undeniable presence to him. He is intimidating to look at, and people are more likely to listen to him and give his words weight. [/color][*][b][color=F2A541]Blessed by Good Fortune:[/color][/b][color=cccccc] Until the time of his untimely death, Rimguage's live is blessed by good luck, because of the shaman who brought him into this world.[/color][*][b][color=D17B0F]Tracking:[/color][/b][color=cccccc] Rimguage is good at tracking creatures and humanoids, particularly in forests or areas of difficult terrain.[/color][*][b][color=F2A541]Staves[/color][/b] - [color=cccccc]Rimguage is exceptionally good at fighting with staves, staffs or sticks, particularly two handed.[/color][*][color=D17B0F][b]Built like an Ox[/b][/color][color=cccccc] - Rimguage is powerful and can take quite the beating. Often he will try to protect others by throwing himself into the heart of combat.[/color][/list][/hider][/center]