Stavanger Bay The sea is my home [IC Joining]

@Ragnar and anybody else that wishes to join! :)

The young white prince stopped in his pawsteps, ears pricked. There was a faint sound of waves crashing against the shore, his usually stern, expressionless face broke into a grin. The sea. Maybe he would find another home soon, one that was near the sjǫ . As soon as the smile appeared, it was gone. Replaced by the same cold, thoughtful expression he always wore. He had been traveling for sometime now, after his father kicked him out of the pack. Where was the family loyalty here? His father probably told the rest of the pack that he had left willingly or he was killed. He had no honor. The white prince walked, determination in every pawstep. The sound of the ocean drew closer and closer, it was night by the time he had arrived at the beach. Although most would find the crashing of the waves against the shore creepy and mysterious in the dark, the young wolf was calmed by it. Able to collect his thoughts about what to do next. The long cut that ran across his flank was red with blood, from a recent fight with another wolf. The ivory prince walked slowly towards one of the border markers, making sure that he was quite a distance away so hopefully he would not aggravate the pack wolves here. He sat down, the moonlight illuminating his white fur, making it glow. He lifted his muzzle into the air and howled, letting the pack wolves know he was there, before twisting around to lick the long cut which would probably eventually become a scar, waiting patiently for anyone to arrive.

Thistle had woken in the night to stretch and relieve herself and the gentle lull of the sea had caused her pause. She sat still her amber pelt fawn bright in the moonlight as she listened to the waves against the shore. She sat still her small head tilted and downy ears poised up eyes closed. She was lost in quiet contemplation as she thought on different things.

Ears quivering on her head a long howl reached across the distance and disturbed the quiet. Blue eyes popped open and she frowned who would be calling at this hour. Standing swiftly she strode towards the sea shore the ocean reaching her ears louder as she approached.

Looking around blue eyes caught the white pelt illuminated by the moon and she narrowed her eyes. Who was this she saw the large cut across his flank and studied it. What was wrong with him was it painful? He was a big brute, she chuffed quietly her stance territorial her voice no nonsense What brings you to our borders stranger?

Beric's paws padded through the grass the bordered the beach. He had been rather restless this evening and figured if he couldn't sleep, he'd trot it off until he was ready to. He wasn't quite sure what it was that kept him from sleeping. It was just... an inkling, an urge, an instinct that told him his den was not where he was supposed to be. A creature of nature, he felt he was obligated to follow his gut.

His gait stopped mid-step when the howl rang out, his ears perked towards the direction of the call. He had just been by the archway not too long ago, but it seemed someone had come around since then. He headed in that direction, his gait swift and with purpose. By the time he got there, Thistle was greeting the stranger. He came up beside her, his demeanor strong and protective over his pack mate. Beric chose to stay quiet, respectful of the fact Thistle Cloud had already begun communications.

He paused in his licking as a voice rang out and turned his gaze towards two wolves, two wolves that smelled of that pack beside the sea. ek leita til að taka Þýtt pakki hans" he said, rising slowly to his paws, head dipped before realizing that maybe they didn't speak old Norse like the so many other packs he had encountered. "I wish to join your pack." he said in his accented tongue, slowly. English was not his first language after all. The ivory prince's head was dipped, tail lowered in respect for the other wolves. The cut glowed red against the white coat, but it didn't matter right now. Nothing mattered except for getting accepted, the two in front of him were probably not the main leader of the pack. vinsamlegast" he added, again forgetting to speak in English.

Thistle heard the language come off his tongue like a caress and she studied him. Was he related to her husband or just another viking wolf from the north. She could accept wolves now, but she preferred Ragnar to do it, especially if they were speaking old norse, she did not wish to unknowingly allow an enemy of her husband in the pack that he loved and built. She tilted down head and returned words to him in norse.

"Hvers vegna ætti ég að leyfa þér innganga? Hvaða færni hefur þú að gera þér betur en nokkur annar frambjóðandi?"

Thistle stared at him again and spoke again in old norse "Hvar ertu? Og hvað er nafnið þitt?"

Beric's ears stood at attention when the stranger responded in a different language. They swiveled toward Thistle when she responded back in kind. He had no idea what they two were saying to each other, and so he felt a little out of place. However, right now his job was protection, so he remained focused on the other male's body language and voice. He was submissive and his voice didn't sound harsh, so Beric knew he was not posing a threat just then.

The white prince raised his head, sapphire blue eyes meeting her eyes for a swift second before its gaze had dipped back onto his ivory paws. He hated submitting to others, but just this time, he'll do it. Besides it was a bonus that someone in this pack knew how to speak ancient Norse, he assumed that she was the Alpha's wife and the Alpha was someone that spoke it too. And if he was extremely lucky, the leader would be a viking too. “talar Þu forna Norse?" a thin smile appeared on his lips though vanished in a second as he regarded her questions. He decided to answer the second one first, best introduce himself. “ek heir Syver, Syver Hakon Ironside. ek frá langt í burtu biǫð. fár mánaðr fara héðan. biǫð vikingr, ert þú vikingr. tala form Norse eptir allr."he said softly in his light accented voice. The other male did not seem to understand or speak ancient Norse so not all of the wolves here spoke it. But some was better than none. The white prince tilted his head as he answered the next question, voice full of quiet confidence, after all he was not ashamed of himself. “ek fæddur vikingr. ek betri færni en fyrri pakki vinum mínum, þrátt æsku. Ég er góður bardagamaður, ferðast, landkönnuður, varnarmaður, veiðimaður, leiðtogi og sundmaður. Ég er fljótur og sterkur þrátt fyrir aldur minn og ég er ekki óreyndur. Ég hef upplifað margar árás og bardaga, ör djúpt inni feldinum mínum getur sannað það. Ég vil einnig að læra." he said in his soft accented voice, he was not boasting, he was merely telling the truth, and it showed in his voice. There was no touch of boasting in his voice, just the simple truth.

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A howl had risen into the night. Unfamiliar. Alerting anyone within Stavanger Bay of his presence. The tenor was too deep to be female and though Ragnar was slightly annoyed to be pulled from his prayers he knew — after deliberating on letting Thistle handle it only to remember that she had told him she gave him full say over who was accepted into the pack despite her rise to his side in rank as his Queen — that there was nothing to do about it and that the call needed to be answered. He finished them hastily before leaving the alters behind, the warm lifeblood of each rabbit he had laid at the alters draining from their cooling and rapidly stiffening bodies to saturate the earth below each bone and pile of related gatherings. With one last look at the sacrifices he had made, pitiful but honest as they were Ragnar turned his back to them and moved towards the borders where the stranger's howl had risen from. When Ragnar came onto the scene, moving towards the arch that carved a path into Stavanger Bay he was pleased to see Thistle and Beric already on the scene, taking care of the situation. He almost turned and headed back into the shadows but remembered that accepting members was his final say and continued forth, joining his Queen and subordinate, moving to stand at Thistle's left flank as he heard the exchange of Norse between his wife and the stranger. Cold eyes of Caribbean ice studied the young male before him, coat as white as snow and eyes blue. Fair, blue eyed, speaking ancient Norse ...there was no doubt in Ragnar's mind that this male was Scandinavian. He had heard that there were others up North, aside from Odinn's Cove and Freya's Moors. They had never been in contact with them but, if given the chance, probably would have raided them regardless. Just because they shared a culture and a country did not mean that he was automatically welcomed into Stavanger Bay, however. The young man, Ragnar heard him speak to Thistle upon his approach, boasted of many skills but arrogance alone proved nothing to the Jarl. "Þú hrósa mikið, drengur, orð einir standa ekki. Þú þarft að sanna þig eins og allir aðrir," Ragnar spoke coolly. "What is your name and where do you come from?" Ragnar inquired in his soft, heavily accented voice demanding answers to his questions.

Thistle wondered if this male would be like the captive they now held the Kyrillos that could not put his pride aside. She hoped for this youth’s sake he wasn’t that prideful. She dipped her muzzle I do though English is my first language. She went back to English for the sake of poor Beric.

Thistle nodded her head I am newly appointed as one. that was all she said on the matter.She listened to him boast of his skills, but before she could speak she felt her husband approach from behind. She tilted head and looked at him from the corner of blue eyes and gave him a soft smile, then she grew quiet. She did not wish to accept this male into their ranks without her husbands say so, for fear that he would be an enemy to her husband. She tilted her ears forward to wait for his answer to the questions she had already asked, but her husband had been late to the party, and had not heard..

Beric was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable not being able to understand them, but he didn't let it show outwardly. He was glad to see Ragnar show up, until he started speaking the language, too. Beric almost wanted to storm off like a pup in a fit, but he stood fast, his ears swiveling to whichever wolf was speaking. Then, finally, Ragnar went back to English, which seemed to prompt Thistle Cloud to, as well.

It was beginning be obvious that he wasn't exactly needed here, but Beric stood his ground firmly. He didn't want to just walk off in the middle of the conversation and let Ragnar believe he wouldn't be a good Warden. Being here, even just for show, had to mean something.

The ivory prince's ears swivelled towards another pair of paw steps, he saw platinum fur and bright blue eyes standing next to the female. Another Scandinavian, another viking and he spoke ancient Norse which only proved this point. And by the tone of his voice, and his words, Syver assumed that he was the Jarl. They thought he was boasting, huh? He really wasn't, it was the truth but perhaps he needed to narrow it down so it didn't sound like he was. “ek skilja. ek vita ek munu eiga við sanna sjálfur." He listened as the Jarl switched language and went back to English, the ivory prince knew how to speak it but preferred to speak Norse. He hoped the Jarl did not mind. The ivory wolf bowed his head and spoke in his soft accented voice“ek vona að þú dont 'hugur mér ekki að tala Norse, dróttinn. ek er altalandi á Norse en í ensku." he said apoligetically. “ek nafn Syver, Syver Hakon Ironside. ek frá langt í burtu biǫð. fár mánaðr fara héðan. Það er land Norðurlandabúar, af víkingr." The ivory wolf lowered his head a bit more, crouched down slightly, his tail hanging low as he waited for the Jarl to speak again. The female next to him was probably his wife.

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A glimpse was spared towards Beric, noting the discomfort of not being able to understand the language being exchanged between Thistle, the stranger and himself and felt his lips tighten at the stranger in discontent when he spoke that he would rather speak Norse than English. He suspiciously sounded just like Ein in that moment, but as it were Ragnar did not allow Ein to speak Norse around those of the pack that did not understand it no matter how much the child moaned and complained about it and it was the same situation here, except Ragnar felt no guilt for being about to chide the stranger on it. Skoll had been a rare exception to that common courtesy if only because Skoll couldn't speak English. "Most of the wolves speak the common tongue here and when you are in their presence so will you too," Ragnar enjoyed speaking his native tongue, especially with his children, finding it adorable how they put cute, childish twists on the language, even so. Beric was obviously here working towards the Warden co-rank and Ragnar would not have him be ignored, or left out of the conversation and Ragnar wasn't going to translate. He didn't compromise (on most things). It wasn't the vagueness that the young man had spoken it with that irked Ragnar, it was the name Ironside, something that his son Týr called himself. This boy was obviously not of his blood (neither was Tyr) but was also, obviously not Tyr. So then, how did he get that name 'Ironside'? "My eldest son, Tyr calls himself Ironside," His brow had furrowed, figuring in respect for his own son he would ignore that nickname. He did not want to get into how this male, too, shared the same nickname with his son, simply that Ragnar was suddenly weary of him. The only Norsemen that had found him so far had been his own and Odinn had not told him anyone special was coming. Ragnar was not sure what to make of this boy and his similarities to both of his sons. The decision was his and he wasn't sure which one to make, put off by his weariness but not wanting to be inhospitable to a fellow Northman, either. "Why should I accept you in Stavanger Bay?" He asked simply just because he wasn't ready to make a 'yes' or 'no' answer yet.

Thistle sat near them both, brushing her muzzle across Ragnar’s shoulder she moved closer to Beric and began to translate softly for just him having planned to do so anyway, so he didn’t feel left out. Her husband may not want to translate but she would, simply because it was polite and Beric was trying to gain the warden rank. the male there his name is Syver Hakon Ironside, he told us some of his skills, and he prefers to speak old norse apparently he is not as fluent in English. She grew silent then waiting softly beside her husband and her friend. She would wait and see if he would continue to speak norse or if he would speak English. She certainly hoped he would, it grew tiresome trying to translate, when she herself was still widely learning the language, she may translate it wrong in her speech, even if it was right in her head.

Are you able to see the photo in my table? It's going wonky on me and won't load :-/

Ragnar was direct in telling the stranger about the language barrier. Beric had no real interest in learning another language, especially if Ragnar was going to maintain that the main language was spoken to those who didn't know any others. The agouti male was able to listen intently to the conversation, now that he understood what was being said.

He smiled to Thistle as she was kind enough to translate for him what was said in the other language. Thank you, he said genuinely, careful not to speak too loudly, in case he interrupt Ragnar and Syver.

Yeah, I can see the pic in the table

"Yes, lord." he said softly, switching back to English. When the Jarl mentioned his eldest son calling himself Ironside, the young viking felt obliged to reply even if the Jarl did not wish to know. "My father gave me the name Ironside after a war fought between our pack and an enemy pack." That was one thing the white prince appreciated his father for doing. "Why should I accept you in Stavanger Bay?" The ivory prince thought for a moment, crouching down before speaking slowly. "I swear my loyalty to you, lord, your family and every single pack member in Stavanger Bay. I will sacrifice myself before anyone in the pack is hurt and I will defend the pack with my life. I will do my best to serve the pack in any way possible. The ivory prince did not look up, instead waited patiently for the Jarl's reply hoping that he would accept him.

I updated Syver's titles and everything. Last post for me and Ragnar. <3

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Ragnar's lip lifted in distaste when the boy called him 'lord'. He wasn't lord. He wasn't anyone's lord and to call him such was an insult to his Priestess Wife. It made Ragnar think of her Lord, the one whose name he could not remember but knew that her and her Christian sisters worshiped. "I am not your lord," Ragnar told the boy before him coolly, out of respect for his Priestess Wife. Ragnar had long since accepted that he would have to share Nerian's heart with her God, much in the way his wives had to share him and his heart with Odinn and his Gods. Ragnar would never, he knew, be so pretentious as to accept the title of 'lord' knowing what he did of Nerian's religion. He didn't believe in her God but even so he tried to respect it despite how strange it was to him. "I am no one's lord. I am Jarl," Ragnar didn't mind if they called him 'Jarl' though he only really required it out of the captives. Ragnar hadn't asked the reason behind the boy's name that was the same as his own son's, and didn't care having already decided that he would not, out of respect for Tyr, pay any mind to what this boy called himself aside from his name. As far as Ragnar was aware or even cared, Tyr had been Ironside first, even Eirikr had taken to calling himself Ironside likely a product from Ragnar's stories about their older brother Tyr, often referring to their eldest brother as Ironside when he would tell the Saga's in Tyr's honor. He missed his stolen son despite that, much like Eirikr's litter they were only children by adoption. Still, Ragnar loved them and respected them. Depsite his beliefs that were likely wrong and born of nothing but favoritism towards his own children, he kept silent on the matter having no intention of getting into a war with this child over a name even if he felt the name belonged to Tyr and not this seemingly pompous stranger. The boy offered him a pledge of sorts, nothing that all the others hadn't already promised him and felt a slight pang of disappointment. Perhaps he had been hoping that a fellow Northman would be able to think outside of the box. As much as Ragnar considered asking him why he wanted to join this pack when he knew nothing of them, nothing about them or how they operated, considering it was a third sister pack to Odinn's Cove and the Cove ran differently, Ragnar assumed, than other Viking packs, but didn't. He was still weary of the boy, having every intention of putting those boasted of skills to the test as soon as possible, after he returned from seeing his oldest son. Ragnar gave his per usual coy smirk at the boy, not exactly the most friendly expression he was able to give but not his most dangerous, either. "With those skills you boasted of I expect a lot from you and if you fail to live up to your boasts you will be searching for a new home. We all do our parts here even the youngest of us. I have no patience or mercy for those who cannot keep to their word." Of course to Thistle that probably made him see like the biggest hypocrite in the world but he had kept his word: he still loved her, he still wanted her and wanted children by her. Only, she had made a un-tamable man tame for a bit and he had realized that he was not meant to be such. Taming Ragnar was like tearing out everything that made him Ragnar and expecting him to be the same wolf. "I have matters to attend to outside the borders but I am sure Beric and my wife and Queen Thistle will be more than willing to give you a tour." With that Ragnar took his leave.

Thistle listened to the youth, but said nothing. She did gaze at her husband when he spoke of having no patience for those who didn’t keep her word, but she to kept that to herself. she would not air the dirty laundry in front of others, and truth be told she did not wish anyone else to see how hurt she was. So she kept quiet, determined to suffer in silence from here on out. She had bore her sons and daughter without so much as a sound, and that was a painful thing, surely she could repress a little emotional pain as well.

She stood quietly and stared at the youth. Come along then. Beric Where would you like to show him first? She looked at the male letting him decide, she had gotten there first, but it was he who professed the want to be a warden and respected, well here was his chance.

Should we start a new thread to carry over from this one?

The stranger was accepted, with a warning to live up to his word. It was a warning every one got, and Beric respected it. If you couldn't trust your pack mates, after all, who could you trust? Thistle asked him where he thought they should show him first. We could walk through the forest, near a cache, then to the lake, he responded, then looked the new addition of the Bay wolves. Fresh water and food are pretty important, after all, he said, his stern expression softening.

His head motioned towards the sea, Do you know sea water shouldn't be ingested? he asked. It was vital to know since it only made thirst worse.