I posted this on Facebook earlier: I went to bed early with chills, and Thor came and climbed in behind me. I asked, “Are you coming to keep me warm?” Thor said, “Yes, Mama. I am that little thing that will always keep you warm.” And suddenly, I wasn’t cold at all. ♥
I could picture me 80 years old, Thor at my side, arm around me to knock off the chill, loving me for who I was to him, and still warming my world.
He has no idea how right he is. Oh my word. That child is the light, the heat, the good in my world. I am constantly amazed at how overwhelming my love for him is. Takes my breath away and brings tears to my eyes.
And he is a good, sweet boy.
I walked to pick him up from after-school care today, for various reasons, and we walked home by the canals. Ducks and geese were everywhere. Thor, gentle as a lamb, crept over to the edge of the water, calling, “Hello, little ones. Hello. Aren’t you nice little ones? You are. You are.” And the ducks swam over and quacked at him. Two got out and shook their tails toward him, then quacked some more. He was delighted, praising them and telling them what good ducks they were.
He’s mine. I am prejudiced; I know. But, I see this whole other person where my baby once was, and this person is kind, and considerate, and is someone I really like. He is smart, and curious, and he has proven that he understands counting the cost before taking action (and weighs out the pros and cons of doing what he wants, versus what I want–sometimes he chooses unwisely, but he never complains about the punishment. He knew it was coming, and he made a conscious choice.) He is stubborn and he is sweet, and he is just an interesting human being.
There is a peace about him. He is largely untroubled. I know the world will wear against that, but it’s sure a good place to start.
And, he is that little thing that will always keep me warm.
The Outside Lane 
Thor looked out across the frozen tundra. His fierce eyes scanned the open plain for some sign. Anything that might hint at the fate of his quarry. Snow caked his eyebrows and beard in a white deathly shroud. The Jilgog sorcerer he followed knew several cunning bush tricks, traps and evasions. He had stalked him for 4 days now, knowing full well an altercation might be the death of one or both of them. Still, it must be done.
He had only just missed the sorcerer in the small port city of Somnath. Several of the spies sent by his nemesis, Thor had dispatched with relative ease. A nanthi blade to the frontal lobe of one. The other was a little quicker, so a 9mm bullet bathed in wolfsbane potion did the trick. He always knew… That tickling on the back of his hand, then pain as those accursed with “the Grim” always gave him when nearby. He could sense them coming… it was as if the calm pool that was his mind rippled and shivered when the Grims were near…
Thor snapped awake as he realized even on this frozen expanse he could still be ambushed! After his family was captured in the safety of New Doldridge, he put nothing past the Grims. They were cunning. His father, being of such a tall stature was put to slave labor in the Molten Mines. Life expectancy was always short. And his mom… her fate was still unknown. But he had come far. He would find her… no matter how long it took, this trail would not stale, could not stale.
Like a bolt of ice in his psyche he felt them! 5 of them. They were arranged in the usual inverted pentagram formation, closing him in the middle. There would be no escape, only a battle. Thor’s heart sunk just a bit as he realized one of them was highborne. Most likely the leader, but he hoped against hope this highborne might be a defective, some leftover shell of a creature. He couldn’t tell yet, but they were closing.
He readied his nanthi blade, and it grew warm to the touch. He drew it out of it’s sheath, as it would soon burn anything it came in contact with. He whispered to it and the runes written sparked ablaze. From his rear holster he drew the 9mm Glock. As always blood oozed from it’s tip, as the muzzle snarled in eager anticipation. He smiled, as it whispered back “Death, master. Let me deal death. Death, master. Let me deal death” in a slow rhythm Thor was always seduced by.
Then they were close enough to see. Thor could just make out their black beady eyes in the snow, against their snowy white faces. 5 there were, and Thor wished just once his senses could be wrong. Not this time. They advanced, and he immediately made the leader. He was a highborne as indicated by a small mark right between the eyes, and his robe was more ornate than the the other 4, indicating a certain amount of skill in both killing and swimming. He thanked fate that they met on flat frozen terrain, with no bodies of water nearby. These Grim would be highly skilled at watercraft, and his demise would be certain.
But they were not. Thor engaged battle and ran at them! As he picked up speed he began with a mind blasting curse shouted at the least of the 5. The Grim flapped it’s wings in surprise, loosing a flurry of small shrapnel into the tender flesh of Thor’s leg. Thor would not leave this battle uninjured. But the Grim immediately convulsed then went limp. A small trickle of blood began to pool under it’s bill.
He spun under his weight and his attackers advanced in a coordinated movement. Almost a dance of death. The nanthi blade was fully aflame now. Thor launched his hulk at the farthest attacker and noticed the highborne step back, only watching now. His orange bill clucked just a little as he seemed to understand something about Thor’s tactics. Thor plunged the nanthi blade at the farthest attacker, and it found it’s mark just above the breast bone. It plunged in and the Grim screamed… in it’s own way…. “QQQuuuuaaaacckkkkk!” Blood sprayed across the virgin white of the snow in his beard.
The remaining 2 Grims attempted to flank him. The 9mm had 18 rounds, he would let them fly. Snarl! Bang! Snarl! Bang! “DEATH MASTER” the gun cried as hot enchanted lead flew through the air clipping one of the Grim in the wing. It raged “QUACK!! QUACKK!” The third round took the Grim just in the neck, spattering hot boiling blood and sinew across the plain. Thor hurled his nanthi blade at the remaining low Grim, catching him right above the hip, and burning and charring the foul through to the cloaca. Thor smiled. That Grim would swim no more.
The highborne was now muttering something as his orange bill was a blur of incantations. “Quaa quuackck acck ackkk quack!” The highborne withdrew what looked like a ball and chain, but the ball was deep reflective black. Before he could stop himself, Thor stared right at the ball. It ensnared him… deep fear began to rise from within him. Fear of death, of the dismemberment of his father. Fear of the abuse and certain death of his mother. His mind reeled. This highbornes weapon was toying with his being. It drew his fears right to the surface. Thor had never experienced this level of torment before. He must break free. He would leave this battle mind scarred now, he was certain.
Thor lifted his weapon and it crooned again “Death Master! Death!” but his hand would not act. He was locked in this demon balls grasp, and only fear gripped him. He reeled. He tried to look away. He could not. The highborne smiled devilishly, as much as it could with a bill of such strength and length. “Qua qua Thor!” Thor fought in his mind, he must resist with positive thoughts of his family, friends and above all, his mothers love! Like a flame of brightest intensity, white hot! The ball almost reacted as if injured, and Thor was able to tear his gaze away. He searched quickly for the fate of the nanthi blade still lodged in the carcass of the other foul.
Thor fired a shot from his Glock and the highborne must have had some sort of enchanted cloak, and covered up, the bullets deflecting off harmlessly. But the ball was not visible while he fired. He advanced on the highborne, firing 13 rounds, 8, 4, 2 and finally none. He was close enough now though, and stabbed at the highborne with the blade. It pierced the cloak, and found it’s mark. The highborne reeled and swung the ball, striking Thor on the temple. They both fell, and Thor could feel the blade burning his forearm, all the while his head dizzyed from the temple shot. He could hear the highbornes terrorized quacks as it flapped it’s wings and orange webbed feet attempted to gain purchase on the ice. Thor swung once more with the blade, and it caught the bird square in the drumstick. It would never walk again. He looked up from his back to try to make the death blow on the highborne, but his eyes located only the Fear ball. Before it could take hold of his mind, he plunged out in one last act of desperation. His blade penetrated the Fear ball and the highborne screeched worse than any he had heard. Then went silent… the ball was broken, and the highborne dead. Some connection between the ball and the Grim. Fascinating. He doubt he could have struck a more lethal blow than to the ball. He stood, winced, and sighed satisfactorily.
Thor was victorious… and would live to hunt tomorrow.