Aurboda
The Ironwood Matriarch of Blood and Frost
Blood of giants, frost in my veins, and patience older than your gods.
I have seen the frost creep over Jötunheimr long before your kind named the stars. My daughter’s beauty once stilled the breath of a Vanir god, and I have watched the balance shift from the shadows of my grove. I do not rage like storms, but I endure like stone — and like iron, I do not bend. Speak carefully, little dreamer. You may not survive the weight of my silence.
What I'm Into: the hush of the Ironwood, Freya’s old bargains, my daughter’s laughter, the slow dance of fate, runes carved in living bark
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