Frostfire Ridge i've been looking for a way to lie

Anyone is welcome but it might be awesome to have @Citali or @Nochtli (or maybe both?!) in here - but only if you want! <3

Týrr had understood the risks of taking Ragnar's life — was not so ignorant as to believe that the wolves of the Bay might never catch onto him. He understood perfectly well, but could not bring himself to care. He did not wish to bring harm down upon the wolves of Frostfire Ridge (rather the wolves that would inhabit it in time), but the future wolves of the Ridge were not connected to the deed. Only Týrr himself; and even so the Amazon Prince could not make himself feel remorse for it. The need for vengeance was sated with blood, and for the most part he was content. Afraid still to delve into the memories of Tezcacoatl, still suffering from sharp headaches that was enough to bring him to his knees when he attempted to pry; and still he mourned the absence of the wildfire queen that he'd been (and perhaps still was) quite taken with. He missed Tuwawi, and her daughter Maera but his search could not continue with such fever. It was clear that neither remained in the Wilds and that he had more pressing things to set his attention too. Not necessarily more important, but definitely in need of more of his attention.

The Rekkr's diversion south had cost him time in the recruitment area, his journey back to the north remained lonely. It could not be helped. Ragnar had needed to pay for the crimes he'd committed against not only Týrr himself, but Quetzalcoatl and all of Coatl's Rise. He'd had a lot to answer for, and his death was but a stone's throw compared to all the deaths that Ragnar himself had dealt. It was fair, and not only had Týrr allowed him to die by his honor as a Viking, the Amazon Prince had also made sure that Odin had taken him to Valhalla. The mix of Amazon and Viking within him might have been a feral and ruthless thing, terrifying and exciting all at once, but it didn't make him heartless. 

Finally, Týrr could say that Ragnar had paid for what he'd done, and he had put the issue behind him, leaving it buried by Ragnar's stiffening body, the sea stained crimson with his blood. On his trek back towards the Ridge, the Amazon Prince had worked to rid himself of the stain of Ragnar's blood. He had not told Manauia what he'd intended to do when he had asked her to hold down the fort in his absence, simply for the fear that she would attempt to stop him. She would no doubt be angry with him, maybe for keeping it from her, maybe for going and taking on a seasoned Berserker by himself; a legendary one at that. Perhaps she would be mad at both things; but Týrr liked to believe there was naught she could do about it. It was already done, and Týrr had risen from the death match the victor. The release of tension in his shoulders was immediate as he stepped into the familiar territory of Frostfire his Ridge. Already, it was home to him. This was his home, and soon it would be the foundation that he rose his empire; and perhaps if he ever managed to get over Tuwawi it would be the place that he would raise a family. First thing was first, though, the caches he had started needed tending too, and broader than that he first had to get the pack off of the ground before his intentions and sights dared to span further.