Cedar Sweep I dropped the berry in a stream

Though she often noticed these things, like a wolf with beautiful eyes or well-kept fur, Ragna was not the sort to point them out. Every so often she blurted these observations, like she just had, but that was entirely not of her own accord. But Saena seemed pleased, and Ragna was happy to have pleased her, so she merely murmured a shy s-sure and let it stay at that.

Ragna did not mourn her father, merely the chance to have known him. She had learned much of Ragnar's history while living in Odinn's Cove, the place of his brith. He had become a character in a story to her, one that she looked up to and enjoyed hearing about. That she was related to this character only deepened her connection to him. So she said without grief, dead, mostly. That this might evoke anything other than a conversational reaction never dawned on her.