Tales of the Slain: 2-Kenna

 The winds rattled the wooden shutters on the hut. 

“My son shall need to tan new hides to keep the draught out if he if to marry again and would live here” Kenna thought to herself as she put the bone needle through the cloth, drawing the fine golden thread through with each careful stab of the needle and creating a pattern more beautiful than others had ever seen her make in the last twenty years.
As the wind blew once again, this time more forceful, the wooden latch on the door snapped and the door blew inwards bringing with it a lash of rain.
“My daughter will need to fix that come the new moon when the rains will begin in earnest as they always do at this time of year” Kenna sighed to herself as she finished her sewing and put down what she had made carefully.

She took the remaining golden yarn, barely an arms length, and tossed it on the fire along with the bone needle. She had judged it well. She had been sewing for over two hundred years so she knew how much to keep spare and offer up as thanks to the Gods. Enough to give them something to use but not enough to make them lazy and ask for more all the time. She was wise in the ways of the Gods.

 

Kenna stood, her old frame still spry enough for her to live well on her own, and walked to the door. Closing it one last time.

Before the door shut all the war though she saw a shadow move across the threshold.

“Ah, then it is my time” she said aloud before pushing a thin piece of kindling through the latch peg holder and stopping the door from opening once again.

She turned and looked about her hut, her home.
Things lined the shelves she had made. Many of them were things she had made or that had been made for her.

She focused on a few of them, memories filling her even as her eyes dimmed and her knees went weak from age.

A knife, the one she had killed her first raider with when she was but seven summers old. A piece of oak with the runes etched in to it. She'd done that when she was fifteen summers old. A blanket with rabbit fur sewn around the edges to keep her warm. That one.. her long dead husband had made. Though she had caught the rabbits using traps of woven grass.

“You have many fine things Kenna..” A cold voice said from behind her. She didn't turn. She couldn't. She had already fallen. The blanket fell across her like a funeral shroud.

“You knew many things Kenna..” The voice said once more, a little quieter as the knife tumbled from the shelf landing next to the old woman, eyes already misting over.

“I know many things” Kenna said as she looked down on her fallen body and run her hand over the rune etched oak causing it to tumble as well, landing on the fur edge of the blanket “I know what I shall need for what comes next. A blanket to keep me warm, a knife to keep me safe and a tribute to you Modgudr”

“Truly you are named well Kenna who is Wise” Said the cold voice once more. 
"She has many tales i would like to hear" said a careful voice from the doorway. 
Neither Kenna nor Modgudr had heard the door open and seen the strangely dressed man enter.