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Mist braids the stones; the waterfall prays
Ótr—otter-shaped—lets daylight drip
He cracks the river for silver praise
And combs his whiskers, slick with fish
Three strangers wander where the salmon sparks
Loki laughs with a flint-bright grin
A river-stone leaves his hand in arcs—
One thoughtless throw, and death rolls in
Pelt from flesh, and pride from grief
The current darkens, reeds bow low
The witness swallows a skald's belief
Some debts don't die—they only grow
He shows the hide like a tavern crown
But fate leans close; the hall lights thin
A doorway waits to swallow a clan—
And greed is already walking in
Otter's gold—fast, bright, bad
Fill the skin—cover it—mad
Ring on hair, seal the debt
Coin by coin, the jaws are set
Otter's gold—blood will spill
Keep it, hoard it, curse it—kill
Hreiðmarr knows his child by hair and hide
Torch-smoke stings like a funeral horn
He binds the guests to grief and law
"Pay the weregild—before the morn
Fill the skin with yellow gold
Then lay red gold upon its back—
Leave not a whisker, leave no cold
Line where my son can call you black."
Fáfnir's eyes are furnace-deep
Regin's hands remember steel
Justice turns to measured weight—
And measured weight begins to feel
Otter's gold—fast, bright, bad
Fill the skin—cover it—mad
Ring on hair, seal the debt
Coin by coin, the jaws are set
Otter's gold—blood will spill
Keep it, hoard it, curse it—kill
Beneath a fall where white water roars
Andvari hides in a pike's cold glide
Loki nets him—iron in words—
And drags up dawn from the river's side
Gold spills out like stolen morning
A hoard that hates the thief's command
One ring clings close—Andvaranaut—
Torn, screaming bright, from a pleading hand
Andvari curses through cracked teeth
"This ring remembers every theft
This ring and gold will murder kin—
Take it, then see what's left."
Otter's gold—fast, bright, bad
Fill the skin—cover it—mad
Ring on hair, seal the debt
Coin by coin, the jaws are set
Otter's gold—blood will spill
Keep it, hoard it, curse it—kill
The skin stands full, a hollow king
One whisker shows—Hreiðmarr snarls
A ring is pressed to hide that sting
And the bargain clicks like closing jaws
Hreiðmarr locks grief in a chest of glare
Counts the shine where a heartbeat died
His sons ask share of the death-debt paid—
He answers with a miser's pride
Night in the rafters; axe-breath near
The witness won't name who struck
A father falls for a brighter god
And blood runs dark with minted luck
Otter's gold—fast, bright, bad
Fill the skin—cover it—mad
Ring on hair, seal the debt
Coin by coin, the jaws are set
Otter's gold—blood will spill
Keep it, hoard it, curse it—kill
Now Fáfnir coils on the yellow heap
A dragon-hinged, with iron breath
No hand may touch what his teeth can keep—
He guards the gold, and guards the death