a/n: WOW, 50th chapter already. This is my humble offering as proof that I have not dropped 'Moments Like This.' (Is it just me or do I feel like I'm doing that often?) This is part of an outsider POV, Odin, who has his own backstory. I'm still trying to decide if I should just upload the short parts I already wrote as part of MLT or rewrite it into a full one shot and upload it separately…. For what it's worth, please enjoy.
When the ground shuddered beneath him, Odin realized the crack of thunder must have actually been the sound of something hitting the ground very hard. It was going to be the worst storm the town had seen in fifty years but even the worst storms couldn't cause earthquakes; something had happened outside. The rain pounded against the windows and he stilled by the glass, looking out into the darkness. At the fields in which his solitary cottage rested, the sun had set long ago, and only the occasional lightening offered light. Too much could take cover in the darkness of the storm so it would be safer to ignore everything and turn in early instead.
Odin grabbed his shotgun, snagging a cap on his way out. The meadow, that stretched several miles behind the house until meadow met sand and sand met sea, was silent save the steady beat of rain. Animals had long retreated to safety, even before the town mayor sent the town's post boy with the message that this storm would be serious and if Odin wished it, he would be welcomed to bear the storm with those who still cared about him. Odin had sent the boy back because he knew and couldn't stand what they still whispered behind his back; what a shame, such a bright doctor, at such a young age, to lose-
Absently rubbing his chest with his free hand, Odin carefully refused to think about the gaping emptiness in his heart. Instead, he focused on stepping through the field, pushing away the tall blades of grass with his raised gun. The mix of rain and wind impaired his vision and he had no idea what to look for, only had a certainty that there was something to be found.
Slowly, he inched forward, muzzle first. The gun was a reassuring weight in his grip for during his time at the marines, he had been a soldier at the front lines despite his medical training. Stick close to the ground, and use your peripheral vision in the dark. His commanding officer had drilled it into him and the war had finished the lesson, etching it into a muscle memory that would take more than a lifetime to wear down. Odin had been a good soldier, relaying orders and following them just as blindly-except for the very end when it mattered the most and at the same time, didn't make a difference at all. But no, Odin refused to think about that and instead, focused on the strange shape three yards away from him. It was a strange stillness that was at odds with the violent storm and whipping winds. It sent his senses on alert because the silence came from the lack of movement rather than the lack of life.
Something was there, and it was watching him.
Odin slowly lowered the safety of his gun as he inched closer, well aware that the creature was likely to be faster than him. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the shadowed bulk settled between the glades, every muscle in his body taut with tension as he moved forward-
Lightning struck through the sky illuminating the field, and when Odin caught sight of a pair of gleaming eyes staring back at him, desperate instinct had him pulling the trigger.
It was fear that forced him up from the gun's backlash when the rush in his ears died down. It was terror that had him pushing back the blades of grass. But it was surprise and utter relief that flooded through his veins when the sight that greeted him wasn't what he expected.
In the center of the upturned ground, the lanky kid was still huddled protectively over something.
"Thank god…" He whispered because he had been sure his aim had been true and he had shot the kid. Yet the kid was a scrawny shadow holding still in a steady way that wouldn't be possible with a gunshot wound.
"You smell like Chopper," The shadow suddenly spoke. "You're a doctor?"
The relief that he hadn't killed someone had him answering immediately and honestly, "Yes."
(He had been foolish once, a soldier once but learned too late that he would always be a doctor.)
And lightning struck again. This time, Odin saw what the kid was protecting, or rather whom: another teen who looked barely older than his friend and in a shirt with dark stains that had nothing to do with the rain. The kid, frozen with a hand carefully balanced on his friend's chest, locked Odin in the same piercing gaze that had startled the ex-soldier into pulling the trigger.
Odin suddenly remembered the stag he saw three years ago in these same plains, before he went to war and had his world burnt down. He had been out scavenging for medical herbs when he realized he wasn't alone. The stag had raised its head, and animal it may have been, but Odin felt the ripple of ancient wisdom and power as it carefully considered his presence.
Odin looked at the boy watching him, carefully and solemnly. He understood that this boy, young and lanky he may be, was the leader of his own herd.
"I'll trust you," He announced and Odin recognized it as the permission it was. He dropped to his knees and reached out, his ingrained training urging him to feel for a pulse-but a hand intercepted, clamping around Odin's wrist first. The grip was pure steel and when Odin looked up in question, the boy continued seriously. "Don't hurt him."
It was not a threat but an order and Odin realized, no, not a herd. This boy was the leader of a pride.