Lay down on a field. Lay as if you are dying. Let pass through your mind your memories: of what you had desired, but did not get; of what you have achieved, and the awards and accolades they produced. See rolling from your fingers blood-red dice, marked with runes. I had given you strength, and agility, duty and perseverance. What have my gifts brought you? What did you make of them? Was it worth my time and effort to have sacrificed these things for you? If the answer is no…. GO OUT AND CHANGE IT. Love, Odin.
So I go about two lines into this Love Note before it occurred to me that something was definitely off here. “Freya? The fuck?” She put her hand on my shoulder and tells me, “Just let him talk.” She was in falcon garb–a white feather cloak that I’ve been associating more and more with her this past year. I’m not sure which “version” of her this is, but my guess is that it is the one associated with Her role as Chooser of the Slain. In the meantime, we have this nice motivational message from Odin. Who, by the way, sounds NOTHING LIKE FREYA.