Story Name: Odd Misgivings

Summary: With the dissipearance of the Hand, the Norns decide to take whats rightfully theirs; All of Albia.

Chapter: 2/8

Story: 1/4

Rating: PG

Warning: No warning for this chapter. Eheh.

Authors Note:

Wow. Im sure. Whatever I am. Less then 5 minutes before I post up the first chapter of the story, I wanna write the second one. Wee. o.o


Okay. Maybe it wasnt such a great idea, after all. Odd had traveled once more onto the land, but she wasnt looking where she was going. She was thinking of the ettinorn, once again. For some reason that she couldnt comprehend, she felt like she had seen him before. Her feelings towards him werent towards the romantic sort; No, no indeed. They were more of the way a mother would feel towards her son, or the way a aunt might feel towards her nephew. Hmm... At the first feel of heat, she looked up, a crooked grin working its way across Odds face. She was there.

The Volcano, unsurprisingly, wasnt filled up. A ettin wandered through the volcano, but quickly dissipeared, chasing after the dog. She was getting the faint idea that this wasnt such a good idea. It wasnt half this crowded when she was a pup; Though, it might have been because she was too preoccupied with playing, and observing the area. Yet, Odds pride didnt let her go back. The only place left to lay the egg was in the airlock; And that simply wouldnt do, to break tradition like that. Nests were to be found, tore open with your own two front paws, to be filled with the padding that you so fiercly sought out, to be heated up and made into a cozy little apartment. It was majority of feral grendels feelings about this; Though, few actually did this, as rarely did ones maternal instincts pop up, as they did in this case.

Odd searched the volcano, hopes falling. There were no helpful nooks, or cheerful crannys, to hide her nest in; Nor were there are conviently located holes. She was beginning to give up hope as she reached a door. Whining, she nugded it with her nose, attempting to get it open. If she knew how to speak, what she would be saying would resemble something like this.

"Open up."


"I dont have all day,you know."

"Stupid door."

"Open up!"

"Wheres some Ettins when you need them..."

At these last thoughts, the ettin mentioned earlier stumbled in. He,who we will call Bug, had lost track of the dog, resulting in him chasing a snail over here. Having lost track of this too, he searched the volcano for something interesting, red eyes finally resting on the grendel. With a laugh, the ettin opened up the door. As soon as the door opened, the grendel shot past the ettin, skidding into the lift, and not a moment too soon. Only a few seconds later, the proud grendel was laying on top of a round object, resembling a large,golden canteloupe. Her egg. Her wonderful, beautiful egg...