Ravensblood Forest remained, still, a frequent haunt of Ragnar’s, and further than that: the land in which he intended to claim to revive the Cove in the posh lands of summer. In a way, the eerie and shadowed depths of the forest sort of reminded him of the North. The forest felt dark and savage, and beyond that was sacred to Odinn, this much Ragnar knew from ‘first hand’ experiences. It was here that he came to offer sacrifices to the Allfather, and sometimes even just to speak to him, though if the father-figure was listening he made no apparent moves to respond. Ragnar never expected Odinn to respond if only because he knew the line between God and Mortal was a thick and well defined one, though it had been blurred once when Odinn had taken possession of the silver Viking’s body; and left a small sliver of himself in Ragnar. It was a gift of wisdom, only a small fragment of what Odinn knew, but Ragnar cherished it all the same. It was wondrous, the Viking assumed, knowing all that Odinn knew. Knowledge was the ultimate power, after all. A fight based upon physical prowess alone could be lost but knowledge was indisputable. It was knowledge that had cautioned the ambitious Viking to take a step back, to separate his ambition from himself long enough to see how, if he acted in impatient haste, things would be fated to fall apart at his paws.

Patience had not been easily bestowed and learnt, but if Ragnar had taken anything from his time as Jarl it was that patience was a useful weapon. There would always be things that he desired in the here and now, but life rarely offered that as a viable option that could mean success. The birth of his sons took precedent over his own ambitions, and raising them, even more. Pump claimed their lives tied to the Ridge, and Ragnar knew that he could not willingly leave behind his mate or his sons. If he had not began his family, things would be different but he had taken a wife, and they had children on the way, and his followers were slim consisting of his mate and children (which given circumstances did not seem like they would be viable followers), perhaps his Priestess (though he hindered on the uncertainty where Nerian was concerned having not been present for her joining), and his half brother, Dagrun who had sworn his alliance to a pack in the south, whose leader he seemed to be contented to follow. In retrospect, he had plenty of time to recruit and plan, in truth, there was no need to be hasty and rush what should take careful planning to begin with.

Ragnar attributed this wisdom to Odinn.

It was slowly that Ragnar made his way through the winding copses of trees, the fog that seemed to haunt the forest writhing around him as he limped - the tug and pull of torn flesh where the bear’s claws had laid into his back leg/hip was uncomfortable, made even moreso by the sickly colored paste that his wife had deigned to (despite Ragnar’s insufferable protests) slather all over the wounds - with careful precision. A new scent tickled his black, leathery nostrils and as the Viking glimpsed at the other, unknown man in the distance he stopped, icy Caribbean blue eyes appraising him with due caution. Simply, the Viking let out a bark of greeting wondering what brought a pack wolf into the confines of his the forest.

The male returned Ragnar’s bark in greeting with one of his own, and then gradually, the injured Viking watched, apprehensive, as the other male boldly closed the gap between them, leaving when he did come to a halt, plenty of distance between them but eliminated the shouting distance they had previously been at. Weight shifted off of his injured leg, discreetly pressing his side against a thick tree trunk to give the appearance of just touching it, when in reality, he was leaning most of his weight against it. He did not need the tree to help him stand as much as he needed it to keep off the weight to avoid further damage to the torn flesh beneath the salve Thistle had recently covered it with. An introduction was made, straight to the point, and Ragnar tucked away the stranger’s name knowing that it would probably be some time before he tried to pronounce it knowing full well that his heavy accent would likely mess it up. As it was, Ragnar rarely addressed by names - just as he had a tendency to never give his name at the borders when greeting a stranger at them. Usually, if they learned of his name it was from another pack mate, or Pump who usually took it upon herself to introduce the scarred Warden with her own name.

His words had piqued the Viking’s curiosity however, the past tense use of the word “came” apart of the Vale. The pack had been enigmatic at best, Ragnar had passed it several times on his trips up North, had even caused one of their wolves to lose the goat she had been hunting (goats were sacred to Thor and henceforth, Ragnar himself) but he had never taken it upon himself to investigate them further. The past tense meant one of two things: either the wolf before him was a deserter/exiled, or something had happened to their pack. Regardless of the reason, Ragnar did not fail to pick up on the fact that there was likely an opportunity here in waiting.

Odinn had not forsaken him, after all.

“I am Ragnar,” He gave his own name in return, stifling a groan as he accidentally shifted his weight upon his injured leg, before he pressed himself harder against the tree, shifting again. “Did something happen to your Vale?” The Viking inquired with subdued curiosity, letting Avyo know that he had picked up on the past tense that the other pale furred male had used. There were times that little seemed to pass through Ragnar’s notice.

The poignant scent of blood tainted the air, mixed with the minty-esque scent of the paste that Thistle had slathered his wounds with and though the urge to peek a glimpse at his leg was great he resisted. It was never wise to show weakness around strangers and his leg would certainly hinder him if things turned sour for some reason. He was almost sure that the movement he had made, purely out of instinct with a lapse in memory and judgment on Ragnar’s part had torn one of the wounds open again. As much as Ragnar wanted to groan at the thought of telling Thistle that he had torn it open again, he knew that she would worry and potentially be upset with him if he did not seek her out immediately after this …meeting.

Ragnar was silent when Ayvo spoke, explaining that the Vale’s numbers had began to decrease and that he was one of the few left. Interesting, Ragnar thought with a curious cant of his head, his eyes thoughtful as he observed the male once more. However, he did not have the full story of why this male left the Vale, only that he swore he was not a deserter along with a rather cryptic words that there had been nothing else he could have done. If this male had left, surely there were others, too. Homeless wolves that were, perhaps, desperate for shelter; despite that Ragnar was still unclear on what happened to the Vale’s leader(s). It was something that Ragnar saw to be a massive opportunity but before he offered he still deigned to know more.

“What do your leaders think of this? Why do you not stay with them through it?” Ragnar had the feeling there was more he wasn’t being told, and despite the male’s assurance that he was loyal, as it stood, Ragnar wanted to be sure he could trust him. The Viking had no time for disloyalty in his ranks, and little more patience for it. He did not hold grudges but he believed in just punishment, nevertheless.

There was no scrutiny in Ragnar’s gaze - only subdued curiosity. Icy, Caribbean blue eyes assessed the male before him once more, trying to find the physical strengths and weaknesses, though in all honesty as long as they vowed loyalty and could prove to be useful to the pack with whatever skills they possessed Ragnar had no intentions of being a hard-ass picky. That was not the Viking’s way. Everyone had a role to play in their ranks and they were expected to cater to their skills, no matter what it was that they happened to excel at; and further more so long as they were loyal they were welcome. It did not matter if they were young or old, small or large. Rapt attention snapped back up Ayvo’s words that he spoke when he began to speak again, this time explaining that their leaders had abandoned them. Brow furrowed into a little ‘v’ between his eyes as Ragnar let that process in his mind for a few moments. Their leaders willingly abandoned their pack? He knew nothing of the Vale but made his judgments harshly given that small, but crucial bit of information. Obviously, their so called ‘leaders’ were not any kind of leaders at all. He did not speak this to the male in front of him, but this made things a lot more interesting for the Viking.

“It sounds as if the ship had been sinking for quite some time,” Was all he opted to say on the matter of their pack’s utter downfall. “I have been constructing plans to start my own pack, based on my culture and if others are willing, religion for some time now,” Ragnar began deciding how he wanted to appeal his case only to let it be known that when it happened it would not be for a measure of time. “With my recent promotion and the fact that my wife is due to give birth any day now it will not be possible for quite some time, however, I am still seeking those that might be interested, regardless,” It was a bit of a long shot, Ragnar had to admit to himself, who would be interested besides himself if it could not come to fruition for another year, even? “In the meantime, however, I reside at Horizon Ridge, just west of here as a leader. If you, or any of your remaining pack mates are looking for a new home we have the room.” Might as well try to recruit some to the Ridge while he was at it since the Ridge had now became one of his main priorities.

“Joining the Ridge until the time comes that I make the separation and put this plan into action is not necessary,” Ragnar told Ayvo softly, not wanting the other man to think that he had to join Horizon Ridge simply because it was where Ragnar was currently located. “I will not tell you what to do, the freedom is yours to choose, but maybe joining another pack might help with potential recruits,” Considering with his duties as co-leader, head warden, and perhaps more importantly as a father would keep him, unless business demanded him elsewhere, pretty much inside Horizon Ridge’s borders for quite a stretch of time; and if not inside the borders then it would keep his proximity close to that of the Ridge’s. “When the time comes for me to part ways, I plan on it to be on good terms with my alpha, and I will seek out those who have sworn to help me to make sure minds have not been changed,” And if they had, Ragnar would not hold it against them. As of right now, this was nothing more than a potential idea: there was nothing that said he would be able to actually form it, especially since if and when he did it would not be until his children were older and he knew he could leave Pump on if not good terms than at least neutral ones -- especially given that he intended to claim this very forest and it was very close to the Ridge.

“I stand for my culture, my religion, for fairness and survival; on the opposite side I also stand for justice. I stand for family and my kinsmen. I have heard these wolves speak of a ‘moral code’, it is not something I have ever thought of. We will raid for food and medicines because it will further ensure our own survival. I have no interest in pack alliances, unless I have no other choice or it proves to be purely beneficial to us. Wolves are quick to swear their alliance but in War they will not aid you because their pack will always come first to them; I expect no less. It is what I would do.” Alliances were messy and more often than not falsehoods to be excluded from raids - not that it would honestly be enough to stop Ragnar, anyway. He focused his gaze and attention then back upon Ayvo, knowing that if he had a problem with any of that he could walk away from this meeting cleanly.

Ragnar offered Ayvo a cheeky smirk, something close to what was one of his many signature smirks before he spoke simply, “Good,”. There was only a brief moment that the Viking hesitated, studying the man before him for a few more seconds, knowing that he probably did not have to say what he was about to aloud but would rather be safe than sorry. He was nothing if not a cautious man; not favoring to take unnecessary and reckless risks that might cost him or others their lives. “Use caution when approaching about the idea in your search for recruits. Do not promise them things you cannot keep,” He warned, fixing Ayvo in a sharp gaze. “Do not push the subject and be wise about who you tell about it. I do not want enemies before we even begin because as of right now it is nothing more than an idea.” Not too many wolves were going to follow an idea and Ragnar could not and would not blame them for it. Things had changed in Horizon Ridge, he had been promoted to leadership and his wife was due to give birth any day. Besides the fact that his children would be far too young to make any kind of change any time soon, he had sworn loyalty to Pump and had accepted her offer to step up. He respected her too much to throw her gift back in her face. Ragnar tentatively trusted Ayvo to use a sense of judgment and finesse, and if he found himself in any sort of trouble that he would have to deal with the consequences of them.

Dedication. This was something, also, that Ragnar valued in his wolves. It came across to Ragnar that Ayvo was dedicated to helping Ragnar borne this dream, this demand of the Allfather’s. The others might not have believed - in fact belief his Gods was not something Ragnar dictated or required just so long as they respected them because they played a major and integrated role in Ragnar’s culture. You could not have the one without the other, really, and this in part was why he would never be fully satisfied with Pump’s offer as strictly Beta. She was not willing to share her power, and Ragnar was not willing to let someone else lead in the name of his culture; but Ragnar knew he would also never challenge Pump for her position. He did not want the Ridge and he did not want unwilling wolves that would only serve to become a massive headache for him, because change would have been inevitable. Ragnar preferred that his eventual separation from Pump and the Ridge be on good terms, because even if they weren’t he was claiming Ravensblood Forest and that could either be a mutual respect of one another or it would end in an all out war. “Good,” Ragnar spoke finally, inhaling deeply before he let it out. “I expect to see you soon, then.” Ragnar glimpsed at the other male one last time, suspecting that the other male wanted something from Ragnar more than a home - though it might have been a mere suspicion and nothing else, it struck Ragnar as a possibility all the same if only because it was exactly what Ragnar would do. With those words he turned and headed back towards the Horizon.