[ Unless the Wildling is drunk off mead and can barely remember the night the next day, Tormund very rarely finds himself in strange places. Especially when the last he remembers is the battle on the frozen lake where he almost died, almost witnessed his friend die and saw three dragons, of which one did die. The day will be one he won't ever forget.
But he also knows that he has not had an ounce of mead or any other liquor for that matter. He was back at Eastwatch, preparing for the Army of Dead to arrive. So, how did he come to be there instead?
When Tormund came to enough to realize he was not where he was supposed to be, he reacted as Wildlings do when they are confused and out of sorts. By fighting.
The next time Tormund is seen, he is shackled and gagged, the latter a result of talking too much, which he had a habit of doing. Furious blue eyes dart around, taking in the not so familiar (but sometimes familiar??) surroundings as he tries to quietly retrace his steps that led to this seemingly random displacement.
At a rest stop, he lightly kicks someone nearby and murmurs something past the strip of material across his mouth. ]
Cuhn you hel-puh meh get dis ofuh?
b. a hunting we will go
[ It's been a few long days of crazy news and strange happenings. The Free Folk didn't much believe in much beyond the Old Gods, so ancestral curses and fox brides left Tormund not really having it. So, he kept himself busy doing other things, exploring nearby areas and trying to seek out answers that were proving quite hard to find.
But when he heard of a hunt, of course, he was all for joining in. If there was no other way out, then here was better than Eastwatch where a legion of undead was marching closer and closer with each passing hour. He survived once and was in no rush to get back to stare death in the eye again. ]
Tormund Giantsbane | Game of Thrones | Tourist
[ Unless the Wildling is drunk off mead and can barely remember the night the next day, Tormund very rarely finds himself in strange places. Especially when the last he remembers is the battle on the frozen lake where he almost died, almost witnessed his friend die and saw three dragons, of which one did die. The day will be one he won't ever forget.
But he also knows that he has not had an ounce of mead or any other liquor for that matter. He was back at Eastwatch, preparing for the Army of Dead to arrive. So, how did he come to be there instead?
When Tormund came to enough to realize he was not where he was supposed to be, he reacted as Wildlings do when they are confused and out of sorts. By fighting.
The next time Tormund is seen, he is shackled and gagged, the latter a result of talking too much, which he had a habit of doing. Furious blue eyes dart around, taking in the not so familiar (but sometimes familiar??) surroundings as he tries to quietly retrace his steps that led to this seemingly random displacement.
At a rest stop, he lightly kicks someone nearby and murmurs something past the strip of material across his mouth. ]
Cuhn you hel-puh meh get dis ofuh?
b. a hunting we will go
[ It's been a few long days of crazy news and strange happenings. The Free Folk didn't much believe in much beyond the Old Gods, so ancestral curses and fox brides left Tormund not really having it. So, he kept himself busy doing other things, exploring nearby areas and trying to seek out answers that were proving quite hard to find.
But when he heard of a hunt, of course, he was all for joining in. If there was no other way out, then here was better than Eastwatch where a legion of undead was marching closer and closer with each passing hour. He survived once and was in no rush to get back to stare death in the eye again. ]
c. wildcard!
[ hit him up with something different? ]