The Beard and the Flute

Another one from creative writing class:

"Warriors fallen,
Long ages past....
By Odin's beard
Will find rest at last..."

The last strains of the haunting warriorsong drifted over the riverbank and into the misted forest beyond as Thor's rivercraft bobbed gently on the smooth water.

With a sigh, and a dismissive stroke of his flowing yellow beard, he grasped the massive oar from its place at his side. His broad back rippled as he dipped the oar and began to propel the boat upstream, the morning song of the riverbirds his only companion. Despite his effort, not a bead of sweat disturbed his brow, and his breathing was steady and calm.

Just as he dipped his shoulder for another powerful stroke, the first notes of a melody sounded. So pure and true was the sound of this flute that it froze Thor in his very seat. It was as if one of the gods' own silversmiths had forged an instrument and bequeathed it to the most talented of Valhalla's musicians.