Ravensblood Forest the heart won't lie

Björn as was his observing custom took an immediate note that her gaze did not linger upon the purposeful scars that marred his otherwise handsome face. No, the stranger held him fixatedly in her gaze, steady and unwavering but the Viking detected nothing of what he had came to expect of strangers in his short two years of bearing the markings of Odinn proudly upon the left half of his face and left ear. It was fear and repulsion that he had came to know, but this woman - much like Fox - did not seemed to neither be afraid or repulsed by them. As it always did, it picked at his curiosity how a raven picked at the scraps of a corpse. Slowly, but with a definitive purpose. She showed that she understood his words with a nod and Björn took her nod in good faith having nothing else to go off of. He did not know what kind of wolf she was, did not know of her further intentions the same way that he knew his own.

The woman’s answer was sufficient and quietly satisfying, if not expected. Hadn’t he, himself, upon his arrival to the Teekon Wilds wandered? It was important to know the territories despite their vastness. Her body posture, the Viking noticed, did not relax even in an increment and similarly, neither did his. A small mischievous grin began to tug at the corners of Björn’s lips when she stated her assumption as opposed to asking. In a way she was both right, and wrong; and for a brief moment he was reminded of the inner turmoil that made him feel barrenly indecisive. “Close, but not quite,” The Viking drew with a thoughtful expel of breath. “I do not lead it. I am,” A coyly amused smirk took the grin’s place. “as you would call it the lap dog.” Of course doing all of these things for Pump, even going above and beyond to do the things she did not ask of him, was for his own personal gain. The Beta rank was the apple of his eye and he was determined to see himself to the rank.

No matter what it took. No matter the cost.