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Horizon Ridge i do like to be beside the seaside - Printable Version

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i do like to be beside the seaside - Bazi - March 29, 2014

This is a scouting/outrider thread - Bazi is waiting at the borders. :)

Lecter had prescribed salt water, and Jinx had challenged her on the suggestion that she would make a better outrider than anyone else in the pack. Hoping to honour the former and prove herself to the latter, Bazi set off from the Creek and headed east, choosing the west-facing side of the mountain to start her neutral trail when it turned out that a claimed territory nestled by the eastern foot. After several hours of hard work, the trauma and uncertainty of her arrival into the Teekon Wilds took a mental back seat to scouting, to the yearling's palpable relief.

She had as a goal to mark a trail from the Creek to the ocean, and did so by making small pyramids of rock and debris in wind-sheltered locations along the route. To mark the direction, she placed one or two white specimens on the side that faced the ocean (and a reddish stone pointing in the direction of the Vale, to signal caution).

The journey took its literal toll in blood, sweat, and tears, but by the time Bazi hit the wall of scent that marked the border of the Ridge, she had created a winding line of markers that cut the simplest route through the Sunspire Mountains, past Porcupine Ridge, and in between the more imposing peaks. From here, she could see the ocean.

Exhausted but thoroughly pleased with herself, she sat and waited for a warden or scout to happen upon her. With any luck, they would escort her to the coast and point out a safe and neutral way back.


RE: i do like to be beside the seaside - Ragnar - March 29, 2014

Oh hai! :-) I'll probably use this for one of Bjorn's Warden threads, if that's ok with you. ^_^

Björn, with the gash in his shoulder softly scabbed over had let Thistle inspect it and rub it with whatever plant or berry paste she saw fit to supposedly keep the scab from tearing away from his skin and to protect it but he only let her dress it when he was going on long distance trips because the scab needed air, now. It was itchy and bothersome to him, forcing him to limp as to not upset it; however Björn did not tear at it because he knew another one would just grow back, Thistle would likely give him hell, and it was needed to mend the torn sinew and flesh beneath it. Still, he did not let his slight limp, or his injury slow him down or keep him from his warden duties, nor his goal for the Beta rank that was fixated in the attention of his efforts and eyes. With Thistle in her receptive heat cycle and Björn’s penchant for debauchery, however, she claimed a percentage, never mind that it was clearly unwanted by the fawn colored shieldmaiden, of his attention as well. Björn couldn’t help his savage self, but he resisted so long she rejected his advances because he did not want to place in jeopardy his deal with Pump.

Black, leathery nostrils flared as the wafting scent, as familiar to Björn as Horizon Ridges’ own, tickled his senses. The platinum silver Viking paused in her pursuit of his border patrols, knowing that he was nearing the origins of the scent. It did not smell strongly of Fox, though her scent clung to the undercurrents of Swiftcurrent Creek’s overall pack scent. It scented distinctly female, squashing any of the worries that it might have been Sveinn, that his son had found him out, anyhow, despite the careful measures Björn Ragnar had taken; and while it could have very well be inevitable in the end, Björn did not want his stolen son’s interference in the task Odinn had set out for Björn and him alone. The scarred Viking inhaled deeply, tasting the scent of the Creek, and the salty tang of the nearby ocean. Someone was at their borders with some kind of purpose, it was his job as Warden to greet them, though there was a slight nag of suspicion that no call had been raised to warn Horizon Ridges’ wolves of her presence.

It did not take the savage long to find her, her ivory coat a palatable difference to the waning snow that only seemed to linger in ugly patches here and there. “Why did you not call for someone?” Björn asked of her gruffly, caribbean blue eyes fierce, scarred and unscarred ears slicked back to a half mast atop his skull, his tail raised over his back, being the only pack wolf here to greet her he took the natural superior position in the situation. "Why are you here?" He was naturally defensive and protective of these lands, having formed an unlikely (and otherwise impossible if not for the landslide) kinship to the wolves he helped to keep safe.




RE: i do like to be beside the seaside - Bazi - March 29, 2014

Sounds good! :)

The inhabitant that greeted her was as scarred as he was gruff, with a fresh - and undoubtedly itchy - injury marring his shoulder. This time, Bazi was not disheartened by the cold greeting; the size and look of him suggested that Björn was a gatekeeper, if not a warrior, and it was only natural that he consider her a threat until convinced otherwise. To that end, Bazi lowered herself closer to the ground and let her plush, unmarked ears fall back in submission.

"I'm sorry," she began softly, "I didn't know the custom, and thought it might be rude. My name is Bazi, I'm new to the Swiftcurrent Creek, and I've been charting the safe mountain trail between my packlands - and here. I didn't know it was inhabited," The visitor chanced a glance at her greeter's face - it remained stoic. "So I stopped, of course. I have marked the trail with stones, should your pack wish to use it to travel safely to the Creek. My ultimate goal is the coast - since I'm new, I've have been advised by our medic to take a cleansing bath in salt water. Could I.. would you escort me? Or point me down a neutral trail," she was quick to add, not wishing to intrude if the Ridge was suspicious of strangers.


RE: i do like to be beside the seaside - Ragnar - March 29, 2014

Björn’s approach could have less threatening …if the Viking had been a different kind of man. Other wardens would not have garnered a nagging of suspicion at the lack of verbal communication of the other’s presence so near to their borders, and if they did they would not have let it affect what could have been peaceable. Peace meant nothing to Björn. Peace had not saved a pack of benevolent and monk-like wolves from the Cove’s raid, nor the tearing of their teeth as they had slain some of them, taking the other, more fortunate (or unfortunate depending upon how you look at it) as slaves. Peace held no purpose but deception for Björn who did not believe in such child’s fantasy things. The girl of the Creek lowered herself and Björn accepted the display of submission with a more neutral pose after his dominance had been equally acknowledged by her. The first words to spill from the maiden’s lips were an apology. “It is only rude if you’re planning on raiding us, mær,” A slow smirk tugged at the edges of his lips, giving the impression that he found something amusing, though in truth Björn smirked when he was angry, too. It was his way of hiding what was in his eyes from displaying obviously upon his face. He was not mad at her, and he doubted she had come to raid. Being an experienced raider himself Björn knew it was not something one did on their own unless they had a death wish.

Björn squinted at her briefly before assessing that her words were true. “Does your Dróttning not know there are packs to the south of her? We are Horizon Ridge and our nearest neighbors to the South of us are the Blacktail Deer Plateau,” Björn informed her, though he had never been to the Plateau or spoken with any of theirs yet. Horizon Ridge had more important things on their plate at the moment. Rebuilding their pack from the ashes of destruction with the help of Odin (for Björn knew the King God would help). When Bazi, the maiden had introduced herself to him as, spoke of a path, his eyes followed the stone trail until he could see no further past the wall of earth and trees. A more civilized creature would have thanked her for it, but Björn rarely used false pleasantries. “I will inform them of your generosity,” He settled for, not wanting to ignore it, regardless, though he doubted they would be going anywhere, any time soon. Most of them were gravely injured and those that were not were put to work helping Pump, caring and hunting for those who could not do it for themselves.

Ravaged and scarred left ear, at her speaking of taking a cleansing bath in the salt water, swiveled to the side, welcoming the gentle roar of the ocean as it roared upon the shore, greedy in it’s reaching grasp, though the full of Björn’s attention did not stray from Bazi. She began with ‘could I’ but then changed her sentence half way through, and for a few moments the Viking was silent contemplating what she asked of him. He could have sent her on her way to Sealion Shore, whose waters she could have bathed in without having to endure an escort, but she was of the same pack as his son, Sveinn; and as far as Björn could see it would not hurt to escort her to the waters. It was not as if he would let her roam about without his watchful gaze, reminiscent of Odinn’s upon her. Perhaps, even, she would remember the generosity of Horizon Ridge for they were not in any sort of stable position to make enemies. “There are no neutral trails, we are the end.” It was partially true unless she wanted to go all the way around the ridge to come out on the other side of the shoreline on the other side of their territory. Half of their land was cut off from them, impassible and uninhabitable. “The landslide has made beyond impassible and even so uninhabitable.” He informed her, and gestured with his muzzle. “Come maiden, I will escort you to the waters for your salt bath.” Björn told her, waiting for her to cross into the borders, passage granted by his permission.




RE: i do like to be beside the seaside - Bazi - March 29, 2014

"Does your Dróttning not know there are packs to the south of her?"

Bazi assumed the foreign word meant leader, and thought of her brief encounter with the Creek's alpha - whose name she did not yet know, but those weren't details that Björn needed to know. "She does, I'm sure - I came straight here on the good doctor's orders, and haven't had time to acquaint myself with everyone yet." To the Creek wolf's great relief, the lofty gatekeeper relaxed his stance - she followed suit from the other end of the scale, pushing herself into a neutral sit to better address her greeter. They had similar eyes, she noticed now - hers lacked his depth, but they were from the same spectrum of colour.

He explained that theirs was the final bastion before the shore, and shared the location of a fourth pack. Bazi nodded, grateful for the information - she assumed there was longer, more inconvenient way to get back from the shore, and wondered how long it would take to go around the landslide. It was information worth sharing with her pack, anyway. "Thank you - you are very kind," she told him with a bright smile and gentle way of the tail, rising to follow, but remembered herself before stepping over the invisible boundary. "Did you lose anyone in the landslide?" The yearling's brow furrowed in concern. The worst of winter was over, but this was still not a forgiving time to have an incapacitated pack.


RE: i do like to be beside the seaside - Ragnar - March 29, 2014

Björn listened as the woman belatedly defended her leader, saying that she was sure that Fox knew of the packs that were far south of her, shouldering the blame for it by explaining to the Viking that she had came on the ‘doctor’s orders’. Sharp eyes flickered to her, writhing with darkness and danger that all Viking men had within them. “Are you ill?” The savage ceased his walking abruptly, moving to block her path as well. If she was ill, and if it was contagious, it was likely Björn would deny her further access and redirect her to Sealion Shore, instead. He would not put the wolves of Horizon Ridge in any more danger than they had already been in. A soft snort left him when she complimented him on his kindness; if she knew him in any shape or form she would not have called him ‘kind’. “No, I’m not,” Björn corrected her in a gruff murmur. “I am just in a good mood, today.” There was very little that was kind about him, and he did not want her running around with the wrong idea about him. Wrong ideas could lead to deluded fantasies of generosity or goodness that did not exist within the Pagan.

Björn found her following question to be prying and in that bothersome. He assessed her, sized her up, unknown of her intentions. Were they simply to bathe in the salt waters as she had said? Björn had told her of the landslide that cut them off from half of their lands only because it had been necessary to the purpose of explaining that there were no easy paths to cut through; that unless she wanted to scour the mountain she would have to retrace her steps to return home. Would, if he were to tell her the truth, that they had lost some in the landslide, if he were to tell her that their pack was nursing deep injuries, they attempt to take advantage of them? Under estimation was the best power in some ways, but as the pack’s resigning warden it was his job to keep a barrier between the world and them while they healed, and that was a big job for one man though Björn tackled it nevertheless. “No,” The lie slipped easily and convincingly from his lips. “We were fortunate that we did not.” Björn did not trust the woman and had deigned to keep the truth closely guarded within Horizon Ridge. If Pump, after they had rebuilt themselves and healed as a pack, chose to tell the truth, then that was on her, but until that point Björn would do his duty and keep them safe how he saw fit.

As they approached the lapping waves, the golden sand warm under his paw pads, he motioned for her to take her bath in the salt water while he stood in watch.




RE: i do like to be beside the seaside - Bazi - March 29, 2014

"Are you ill?"

And just like that, she went from maiden to lepper. "I'm not ill," she assured him, but the damage was already done - she could see suspicion on his eyes. Any tale she might tell him now about the pack's medic being cautious about her far-away origins would be wasted breath. "It's only a ritual."

Something must have happened, because Björn was doing his utmost to convince her that he was not to be trifled with - a fact Bazi didn't doubt, but likewise did not need to be reminded of at every turn. He was cagey, leaping on every opportunity to interrogate her. Was there something off about the landslide? Had it been set off by one of their own? Was it a cover-up for something more sinister? They journeyed through Ridge territory in silence, two wolves with only the colour of their fur in common. It felt like an epoch had passed before rock turned to humus turned to sand. The air turned salty, and Bazi's ears were filled with the pleasant din of the ocean. She looked to Björn for permission, found it granted, and ran straight into the waves.

The Creek wolf spent a good twenty minutes dipping in and out of the water, letting herself be tugged by the currents and burned by the salt. It felt cleansing, and warmer than the ocean she had known. Unlike the creek, whose waters were fresh, the ocean made her nose run and left every sensitive spot of skin feeling raw. If there was any sickness left, it was gone now. Satisfied that Lecter's wishes had been fulfilled, Bazi shook salt and sand from her now porcupine-like fur and returned to Björn on the coast. She fixed him with wide, solemn eyes. "I'll go now," she promised, and motioned with her muzzle at the distant Totoka River. "But I would like to head back via that river. Would you like to escort me?" It was for the warden's benefit more than hers; she had a feeling he wished to keep eyes on her until she was safely beyond his pack's borders.


RE: i do like to be beside the seaside - Ragnar - March 29, 2014

Björn listened as Bazi responded that she was not ill but that instead the bathing in salt waters was a ritual. The word, familiar though not in his native tongue, brought a spark of recognition to the icy depths of his irises. Common tongue, or old Norse - it did not matter. Björn’s own people were big on their rites and rituals and had more than the Viking often cared to delve into if it was not of the importance of the moment. “What sort of…ritual…is that?” Björn inquired, pausing to draw his salmon pink tongue across his nose once. “What does it do?” His questions, though, lacked the firmness of any of his previous ones, having made a transition in the softer state of curiosity. She did not appear to be a Viking, but looks could be deceiving Björn knew. He was good at being deceptive and cunning and he, of all, should know that nothing was as it really seemed. Maybe it was some sort of rite of passage, as the Vikings had, watching trails and further, executions when they came of age. Perhaps, it was something sort of like that, though their leader’s lack of belief in Gods - for the way she had spoken it made it sound as if she had no faith at all - it was surprising thing to consider.

Björn watched her bathe in the sea, watched as the waves lapped over her before they tumbled to the shore, their foaming rushes stretching to meet his paws which remained just far enough of it the sea’s grasp to keep them dry, though the spray and brine of the wind that rolled off the turmoil ridden sea sprayed him, nevertheless. “Do you feel any different?” Björn asked her as she approached him, though he remained unsure if she was supposed to feel different, or not. For a brief moment, the savage was taken aback by her wide, sad looking eyes. His brow furrowed as he asked, “Why do you look so sad?” though it did not immediately occur to him that he could have been the reason for her gloomy mood. “I will escort you back, yes, but hold a moment,” Björn said quickly, after she spoke of leaving. “I can’t leave without playing the part of hospitable warden, would you like something to eat?” And even if she declined his offer to eat, he still planned on insisting that she took something with her. Despite the savageness of Björn he had his customs and traditions and to break them would be to bring the wrath of the Gods upon his head.




RE: i do like to be beside the seaside - Bazi - March 29, 2014

The question caught her by surprise - had she been privy to information about Björn's past, she would have known that the word 'ritual' spoke to his deeply ingrained spirituality. Bazi's own beliefs was not so defined. She believed in family, loyalty, and the seasons - that winter was a necessary sacrifice for the bounty that followed. Salt, she thought to herself as she bathed, was a bit like winter, or the fire that she had seen one summer night when lightning had ignited the Cracklegrass Fields and turned them black. Something beautiful always rose from the ashes. That would be a nice thing to tell him.

Do you feel different? Why do you look sad?

"Clean. I feel clean. I came from up north - [i]far[i] up north, and to our medic the smell was unnatural. Now I only smell like salt, and I can start over." She licked the tip of her nose, and ventured a delicate smile. He seemed to be making a conscious effort to quell his suspicions - perhaps because they were out of claimed territory, or because he felt certain now that she was no spy or raider. "It's a rebirth, or a cleanse - a personal winter." It sounded so plausible that Bazi considered making the baths it a true practice. "And I would love a morsel, if you have one to hand. Do you fish - or catch water fowl?" She supposed Lecter's advice to eat clean, white meat went hand in hand with the cleansing effects of salt - and explained as much to Björn. "It goes hand in hand with the bath. Cleaner meat."


RE: i do like to be beside the seaside - Ragnar - March 29, 2014

Björn found her response to be a little strange, wondering how she could feel clean after bathing in the murky salt waters of the ocean, but accepted it nevertheless, keeping his thoughts to himself. It was only when Bazi spoke to him of being from the far North that Björn’s interest truly piqued, having been pricked when she had spoken of a ritual. Whatever could be said about him from before, the Creek maiden now held the Northerner’s full attention. “You come from the North, too?” Though where Björn had came from in the North there had been the Sea, harsh winters and summers but with bountiful harvests. He revisited the consideration that she was a Viking as well but silenced it. She did not bear the same accent. Of course, in truth, that meant little but Björn had telltale signs that he looked for, whether they were accurate or not.

“I think there is some fish,” Björn responded making a bee-line for the nearest cache, suddenly glad he had thought to memorize where the ones still accessible to them were located. “I have not fished in a long time, not since my father taught me.” Björn admitted in a quiet tone, having been the first time he mentioned his father to anyone outside of Odinn’s Cove. Björn did not speak of him, though it was not out of shame or anything of the like. Björn (the older brother not to be confused with Ragnar who was using his older brother’s name as a moniker currently) had slaughtered their father for the title of Jarl and neither Björn (Ragnar) nor Váli had really spoken of him since.

“I promise that the fish in the cache is not very old,” There were wolves stocking and re-stocking them more than most packs did if only because the Ridge was using it to heavily feed the injured in their ranks. “Still succulent,” Björn promised as he paused at where the nearest cache was, turning his caribbean blue eyes to her. “Unless you would like fresh fish?” In which case he was not so sure he could help her with as far as physically fishing went because of his shoulder.




RE: i do like to be beside the seaside - Bazi - March 30, 2014

Had to change her origins to someplace a bit further south, otherwise there wouldn't be any trees or packs! :)

Bazi nodded, and for the first time took notice of the intricacy of Björn's scarring. There were curves and details that looked purposefully done. She had never known a wolf pack to purposefully inflict damage - the risk of infection was too great - but a number of their more secretive and distant neighbours displayed what her own family dismissed as 'strange behaviour'. Ritual gatherings, the need to speak strange words over every kill, intricate burials - Bazi had only heard tell of it from her older brothers, who were expected to venture much further than the 'practice packs'. Such things weren't the way of Nanum-Akkads, who were to practical to the point where thanking the sun for shining was scoffed at: the sun had risen every day for generations; what would make you think that it wouldn't?

"We had an ocean," she told him, meaning the Beufort Sea north of the Ivvavik National Park. "But it was much, much colder, even in the summer. Swimming there was just short of torturous." The Ridge warden guided her to a cache of fish, half-buried under clean, salted sand and protected by boulders. Bazi thanked him with a furious wag of her tail (and made to touch is uninjured shoulder, but thought better of it at the last minute), picked one of the smaller fish up, and dunked it in a pool of water to remove the sand. The flesh was oily and succulent, just as promised.

As she worried at the morsel, Björn finally offered a quietly spoken fact about his origins. Bazi looked up, cocking her head to the side - ocean bath had bunched her fur into thick spikes. He clearly wasn't the type to share when asked, and she felt privileged to be on the receiving end of freely given information. "My father taught me, too," she responded, trying to keep her voice casual. "We watched the bears and caught salmon in the rivers." There was a pause as Bazi debated whether or not to probe further. "Where ..? No, I'm sorry. It's just that we look so similar, I thought.. maybe we have a very, very distant relative." The yearling gave a barking laugh. "But it's probably just coincidence. We're both from the North, I'm sure it's just that."


RE: i do like to be beside the seaside - Ragnar - March 30, 2014

Thinking of Odinn’s Cove, a pack his family had not always led, but nevertheless been apart of for numerous generations did not make him as homesick as he had thought it might have. He missed the certain measure of comfort his own people brought to him, and he did miss leading them and being thoroughly true to his Viking blood and origins, as opposed to this laying low crap that he endured all for Odinn, because the Allfather, Björn’s descendent (or so he believed anyway) demanded it of him; and who was he to defy the Gods? Björn had heard her sentence about the sea but did not know what to say to it, other than admit that Odinn’s Cove had a section of shore and sea within their claim, as well. By the time Björn considered that he would tell her they had reached the cache and she had taken what she had wanted from it, cleaned it and began to eat away at it.

In return to his rarely given information she spoke that her father had taught her how to fish too. It had been easy to forget that in his father’s youth he had been a simple fisher in the pack not the fearsome Jarl that they had came to love and fear. The stories his mother had told had not sounded of his father, but instead if someone else entirely. Someone their mother had gotten the Jarl confused with because for Björn to imagine his father as anything less than a Jarl was impossible. Yet, in the Cove, the leadership was not automatically passed to the children of the current Jarl. The only reason that the original Björn and after him Ragnar had succeeded their father on the throne had been at the death of the current Jarl by the son/brother’s own teeth. For a moment, the savage considered telling her where he came from in truth, but thought better of it. She was in the same pack as his son. “Maybe,” Björn allowed, following with, “if you have Viking blood in you.”




RE: i do like to be beside the seaside - Bazi - March 30, 2014

"Viking?" Bazi had never heard such a word. Was it a pack, or a different type of wolf? Björn hailed from the North, so perhaps 'Viking' was just another word for Northerner - and that she certainly was. There hadn't been a contributor to the Nanum-Akkad gene pool in living memory that hadn't been of sound Northern stock. In fact, her own alpha was only the second non-Arctic wolf Bazi had ever seen. Soft, summer wolves. A strange sensation filled Bazi's chest. The trauma of her arrival into the Tekkon Wilds had booted her brain into safe mode, where prejudice and judgement had no place - now that she was safe, bathed, and fed, they popped up like pea shoots. The Nanum-Akkad's omega had been a runty, blue-black wanderer, accepted into their pack as a fool and puppysitter, well liked but never respected on the same terms as the other wolves. But the game was different here. The petite yearling lowered her head to inside of her front leg, rubbing fishy remains from both sides of her muzzle as she pondered Björn's words. This was summer country, and she would have to recalibrate despite the steady crystallization of her true preferences - after all, the majority of her pack were wolves of warmer origins. "Do you think I could be a Viking?" she asked, fixing him with an interested gaze. "What is a Viking like?"


RE: i do like to be beside the seaside - Ragnar - March 30, 2014

The way Bazi repeated the term ‘Viking’ made Björn believe that she had no idea what, exactly, it meant, nor the infamous reputation behind it. Her further questioning, caused a contemplative look to morph upon his scarred, stoic face as he peered at the cluster of trees stretching behind her, a green canopy of writhing shadows. “Anyone can be a Viking, as long there is commitment to our traditions and Gods, and the rite of passage is completed,” It did not matter, truly, if there was ‘Viking’ blood or not, he had simply asked it for her benefit but her questions were satisfying enough as answers. “But if you have Viking blood, I don’t know. It’s very possible though,” Björn hesitated, wondering how much of his culture he should share with her. The Vikings were grossly romanced by travelers but in truth they were brutal and ruthless in everything they did. Hard conditions made hard men, Björn had once heard an elder say. “We are a culture feared…for good reason. We raid, we fight, and my kinsmen are known for raping the women of the packs we raid and kill, so you could be a decedent of a Viking, yes,” A mirthless laugh left Björn’s lips then as he glimpsed at her, waiting for her to skirt away from him, or be horrified. “There is no sense in painting a false picture. It is what we are. Not many, as you can guess elect to become one of us.” Björn shrugged simply then, gritting his teeth against the sickening feeling as the scabbed flesh was tugged at with the motion.



RE: i do like to be beside the seaside - Bazi - March 30, 2014

Bazi's eyes widened, but she swallowed back her gut reaction and turned it into a strange hiccough. She had a vague understanding of the word 'rape', but the knowledge was second hand - her mother, undisputed alpha and disciplinarian, had once ripped an older brother's ear clean off his head for succumbing to what she referred to as 'the ultimate degradation' of a neighbouring pack's two-year-old female. What rape actually involved, Bazi could only guess at. Zimri - the perpetrator - was exiled to Herschel Island, and Zambiya followed (though Bazi was convinced it was out of some misguided duty, and not because he really wanted to). The sickness announced itself before diplomatic repercussions could truly be felt, but Shar-Kali was entirely preoccupied with the incident until Amon started to cough.

"Oh," was the only thing the Creek girl could manage, averting her gaze for a moment to think. She found herself wanting confirmation that this wasn't all it meant to be a Viking, partly the origins of her own bloodline were too shrouded to exclude the possibility that she might be the descendant of a long-forgotten rape, and partly because she was starting to enjoy this particular Northman's company. Ultimate degradation pulsed behind her irises like lightning. "That sounds.. very savage. What about your own women?"


RE: i do like to be beside the seaside - Ragnar - March 30, 2014

Björn could have lied about how the Vikings really were, but he could not see the sense in it. He was not ashamed of who he was, of their ruthless nature, because it was the very nature he reflected, it was the basis of all that he was; but he was not without his redeeming traits, but he had nothing to prove too. His Gods were just as brutal as he, and demanded such things, to object it was to defy them, was to disappoint them. His Salvation was found in blood and carnage, not peace. The girl’s eyes widened and she let out a strange noise that Björn assumed was of, if not fear than certainly caution. He did not try to soothe her, did not try to make piteous excuses. That was not the kind of man Björn was; he did not try to tell her that she didn’t need to worry - because she did, in essence have to worry about his brutish nature. She inquired then about the women, as if seeking some sort of promise that they were not all ruthless. “Like your typical women, free. Healers, scouts, sky watchers, priestesses, the warriors are called Shieldmaidens. They raid and kill, too. They are in many ways our equals.” That did not include slaves, but that wasn’t necessary information he felt.

“We have our faith, too. Our belief in our Gods, aspiring to drink and eat in the halls of Valhalla.” Björn told her then, including it not as assurance, but because he had not actually mentioned faith when he had been speaking of their ruthless nature previously.




RE: i do like to be beside the seaside - Bazi - March 30, 2014

But Bazi was only looking for equality, and to hear that the the females held their own in the same arenas eased her concerns considerably. She put the darker subject of rape to one side, too young and too fortunate to know the details. "My mother might have liked to be a Viking," she told him, smile creeping back. "We didn't .. raid, or murder, but within her own pack she was ruthless." The memory of Zimri's blood-curdling screams against the total calm of Shar-Kali's expression made the yearling feel suddenly cold. Her gaze shifted into the middle distance. "It always felt like she needed something bigger."

Bazi gave her head a quick shake, re-focusing her attentions on Björn. Valhalla was unfamiliar to her, and she had been taught to scoff at the mention of Gods - of her spiritual aunt's dramatic suicide, her mother had commented: "Did she expect to be raised into the heavens by cloud badgers and a trout made out of air? That lesson burned strong in the Creek wolf, and on that basis she decided to skirt around the subject of Gods in as polite a way as possible. "Is that what Valhalla is to you and your kind? Something bigger to live for?"


RE: i do like to be beside the seaside - Ragnar - March 31, 2014

Björn’s scarred ear twitched absently when Bazi spoke that her mother might have liked to have been a Viking, and Björn let out a soft snort, breath pushing out of his black, leathery nostrils. “Maybe she was,” Only a Viking was considered one in truth when they had gone through the rite of passage but Viking blood was Viking blood and could, nor would it be, disputed between them. “Ruthless,” Björn repeated, as if the word brought back some fond memory. “Fear is more potent than love, but it is important to be fair, too.” Björn spoke from experience. He was ruthless, dangerous, and many more demonic-like things, but he was fair to his wolves while he led the Cove. He was fair because he remembered what it was like to be just another Berserker - expendable if he died on a raid. His life had mattered in some semblance, but he had not been important until he gained the title of Jarl with his brother’s warm life blood spilling freely in a puddle around his paws, covering him from nose to tail with warm, sticky crimson.

“There are many Halls in the afterlife, Valhalla is merely one of them, but for a warrior like me, yes. A place in Valhalla is what I am working for in all things.” He responded. It was important to think about death, but earning his way into Valhalla was only one of his goals. Keeping Odinn’s favor, earning his way to the Beta position, the official Warden co-rank, and eventually starting a Viking pack within these lands were the current focuses of his attentions.




RE: i do like to be beside the seaside - Bazi - March 31, 2014

Fair. Had Shar-Kali been fair? Mostly, yes, but she held certain convictions that she would not budge on, and what Björn spoke so earnestly of now ranked highest on that list. "There are wolves who will do anything for an idea," the grim alpha had told her fourth litter as broken body of their fanatic aunt disappeared downriver. "Think on that." And Bazi had thought hard then as she did now, on the Vikings' claim to ruthlessness and murder and rape. What separated Zimri - whose single succumbing to the weakness of his gender cost him everything, despite his previous good credit - from someone that deserved a spot in a wondrous, heavenly hall? The dark smudge on her memory of the more war-like of the twins was larger than the memory itself - he had done something unforgivable, and even as a pup that had flicked a switch in her that had since rusted into position. The Creek wolf regarded her greeter quietly as she polished off the salty morsel he had offered her. She wanted to quiz him, to find out how far he would go for his ideas, what he would do. At what point would the scale tip in favour of earthly concerns? Where was the line? And was a wolf that believed in Valhalla better - or worse - than a wolf that believed in nothing except the certainty that the sun would rise? "Would you do anything?" She asked suddenly, bluntly.


RE: i do like to be beside the seaside - Ragnar - April 01, 2014

Would you do anything?

The Creek maiden had asked her question bluntly and to Björn unexpectedly, cueing in the Viking that she had been contemplating his words with some sort of seriousness. For a while, Björn was silent as he contemplated the singular word: anything. It was a very general word that covered the vast and essentially never ending meaning despite it’s lacking specifications. Would he do anything to reach Valhalla? The answer itself was easy, thoughtless, yes; but Björn did not immediately speak this to her. Not while he began to contemplate if she misunderstood the meaning behind Valhalla. In hindsight, it was easy to get into Valhalla for in essence, there were no requirements. A Viking did not have to favor Odinn, neither did he have to die in battle, neither did he or she truly have to be a warrior. Odinn was not demanding of his children as other Gods were, Björn had came to learn. Odinn did not require a strict way of life, did not demand purity, did not have commandments or required worship to enter his grand Hall in the afterlife.

But Odinn was not a greedy God.

Björn took a deep breath, inhaling the scents of salt, fish, earth and Spring, “I would do anything Odinn asked of me to do, but it is not so complex as most think. There is no right or wrong way to live to enter Valhalla, or any of the Halls of Asgard. Our Gods - most of them - are not so Greedy.” He explained, though Loki was brought to the forefront of his mind he was not mentioned, if because he was a God of mischief and pranks and nothing more. As far as Björn was currently aware he was in charge of any of the Halls of Asgard.




RE: i do like to be beside the seaside - Bazi - April 01, 2014

"I would do anything Odinn asked of me to do, but it is not so complex as most think."

Bazi's brow furrowed softly over her wide, pale eyes as she struggled to process this information. If she ignored the nuances, the answer was just yes - he would do anything to meet the demands of his faith, and that, as far as Bazi was concerned, made him crazy and unpredictable. She suppressed a shudder at the memory of her mother's and aunts' stories about wolves that dreamed of murder, took it for a command, and carried out the act without question the next morning. What would happen if Björn had a bad dream, or lost his mind?

But he hadn't just said yes, she reminded herself. The way he spoke of Odinn and Valhalla made it sound to Bazi like he was merely layering fantastical elaborations on top of earthly needs - like food, and mateship, and territory. Rape and torture were not the exclusive domain of the religious either, she thought, though the acts might be easier to perpetrate if you convinced yourself it was in the name of something greater. The actions that scared her the most were the ones that ran counter to survival instinct, or pushed wolves to conjure conflict out of thin air. It remained to be seen how far Björn's beliefs would take him.

"I understand," she said, and did - but could not empathize, nor shake the knot of unease that grew with each wondrous detail. By this point, the sun had taken on the colour of mature cheese, and the already weak warmth of it was waning. It was time go, and Bazi signalled the fact by stretching out her hind legs. "Thank you for allowing me into the Ridge. Is there anyone you wish to send regards to, anyone you know? I will tell the Creek that you are all well despite the setback - and you are very welcome to visit, any time, should the mood strike. I will catch you a fresh river trout as thanks."


RE: i do like to be beside the seaside - Ragnar - April 01, 2014

I wasn't sure if you wanted to post once more or not, so feel free to archive it as it is or post once more. Thanks for the thread! <3

If she feared the things that made him she would find no respite from him, neither would he soothe her worries with meaningless and hollow words of assurance. He had no such words and even if he did Björn would never speak them. Whether she let her unease of him cloud her judgment of the Ridge in general was largely up to her, and while he had permitted her to bathe in the sea so near their territory, dangerously so, and had offered her a morsel of food before she began her journey back to the Creek as was expected of him as a defender of the borders it did not at all make him a kind or generous male. Horizon Ridge was nothing like him, admittedly, though he shared common aspects with Pump though he did not recognize these, yet. Nevertheless, the brutality of his culture and beliefs were the basis of his being and him alone. He was not the Ridge’s voice just as they were not his. At her offer, his thoughts flickered briefly to Sveinn, but once more, he chased them away. If Sveinn knew of his presence in the Teekon Wilds then there was no longer a reason to bear the moniker, but Björn was not so ready to be rid of it, yet. “No, there isn’t,” Was he merely prolonging what would, one day, be inevitable? Would he be forced to be face to face with his son once more, whom he had allowed to go out and earn his own way to Valhalla without living in his (Björn’s) shadow. It was a possibility.

“I will remember that,” Björn spoke, dipping his head as his way of thanking her without actually saying the words. He gave her a twitching grin as he stood like a watchful sentry once more, determined to watch her go until she disappeared into the horizon, even though he doubted her intentions were ill. Regardless, he was just going to see his job through.




RE: i do like to be beside the seaside - Bazi - April 01, 2014

Thank you, too - I think we did pretty well! :)

Bazi, too, smiled her goodbye instead of speaking it, and began making her way toward the river in the East - Björn would no doubt wish to see her cross it, just to make sure. The Creek wolf felt the glare of watchful eyes well beyond crossing the river (unnecessary, but she had promised) and doubling back through Ravensblood Forest. From there, she would climb the mountain and re-join her trail - but that trip could wait until first light. Bazi nestled herself into a shallow, single-sized hollow in the mountain, slept in the shadow of Horizon Ridge. In her dream, Björn brought up every fish in the entire ocean, and told her it was what Odinn wanted.