Stavanger Bay Well it's too late

Kjalarr saw no point in hiding what was obvious from her, and there was no point in lying to her. He had been drawn in by the saccharine scent emitting from her body, inviting and perhaps even forbidden to him. He didn't know, hadn't asked and had no intentions of doing so. Freyja was a woman full grown, more than capable of making her decisions and if he happened to be her decision then so be it. Who was he to disagree with a goddess? Kjalarr was patient, a rare but well learned trait for him to exhibit as she, he assumed, toyed with her options which were pretty clear cut: allow him to divulge in what he hoped they both wanted, or shoo him off. Kjalarr supposed that for her it probably was a bit more complicated than that; and if he were old enough to bear her children he could see reason for hesitation. However, he was not of the age to father children and essentially he was harmless to her and any reputation she bore. Unless she told (or someone saw) no one would know she'd been with him because there were not repercussions that could fall from it; at least in the form of children.

It was a once in a lifetime chance. Ok, probably not once in a lifetime for surely a woman as lovely and divine as she had a queue of men waiting. He watched as she stood and drew nearer to him, his breath hitching ever so slightly with anticipation as her muzzle brushed against his own. It took all of his willpower to resist nipping at her cheek in a love bite. Miraculously, he resisted, and felt a soft shiver slither down his spine when she encouraged him to go with her, and then she was apart from him, running off. It took all of a few seconds for him to follow after her, her scent trail more than enough for him to go off of though her gray form stayed in his line of sight. “Where are we going?” The northman called after her, curious and beyond that eager to arrive at her desired destination.