The morning sun, as it was most days, was obscured by the white wisps of clouds peeking through every now and then when they offered a respite from their shielding as they moved lazily across the vast stretch of baby blue above the world. Ragnar knew Sköll was in these Wilds. It was nothing so complicated as being a matter of a vision granted by the Allfather, nor the passage of message through lips (if only because Ragnar did not associate with the Isle wolves more than was necessary). Rather, simply, it was because he had scented him in Ravensblood. His scent had been faint, tainted justly as faintly by the scent of a woman that was not any that he recognized. Sköll. Son of Floki and Helga. Floki who was counted rarely among one of Ragnar’s truest friends. Joined with the wolves of the Isle. The betrayal was like a vicious slap to the Viking’s face and despite the putrid irritation he felt he had to stop to remind himself that the boy could have easily grown confused. Perhaps, all along, Sköll was searching for him and had gotten mixed up. He was intelligent but Ragnar knew he was unable to speak but a child’s handful of the common tongue words.

Unless Majesty could speak their native tongue it left Ragnar to wonder how, exactly, the boy got in with the Isle wolves to begin with; however, it did not matter. Soon Sköll would be among the ranks of the Ridge, among Ragnar’s ranks where the platinum silver Viking felt the Flokisson belonged. Or so it was how Ragnar believed. With this thought firm in his mind the Beta of the Ridge stalked the Totoka River wondering if he should call for the Tiny Viking or if he should wait on the surefire chance that he would have to come out of the Isle sometime to hunt for himself. Or to gather herbs.

Watching Sköll emerge from the shadows the Flokisson had obviously been hiding in, the wraith’s body slinking into instant submission caused Ragnar to bristle with indignation. He was not Jarl here, and not Sköll’s leader and yet the boy: the son of Ragnar’s closest friend was acting as if he was. “Rise Sköll,” Ragnar commanded of the boy, knowing that while he meant well it was only destined to get him into trouble if someone were to walk in on their meeting. Not that Ragnar thought that was a possibility — neither did he truly care. “I was just about to call for you,” It was better though, Ragnar knew, that he did not draw any specific attention to Sköll until he could effectively steal the boy away to the ranks of the Ridge. Ragnar was silent when Sköll admitted that he had something to tell Ragnar but did not immediately specify what, exactly, it was he had to say and so Ragnar took the chance presented to tell as opposed to offer: “I want you to leave the Isle and come live at the Ridge. At Horizon Ridge. With me.” As far as Ragnar could see (or was willing to see) it was the best place for the Flokisson where he would have Ragnar to offer translations and he could improve his common tongue with the assistance of several of the wolves who were learning their native tongue.

Besides as his best friends' son Ragnar felt like he had an obligation, a duty to Sköll and Floki.

Sköll didn’t even seem to register Ragnar’s words, of his desire to see the Flokisson boy where he belonged in the Ridge, having given no sort of response based upon it. Instead, the pallid boy offered — or rather unceremoniously blurted — that he had ‘lost Ragnar’s baby siblings’. For a moment Ragnar displayed only his confusion at the words Sköll had blurted out in their native tongue until, slowly, they began to process and Ragnar, after it had bubbled in his chest, let out a laugh. Was there a sense in telling Sköll that Hati had found her way to the Ridge? That while, yes, she might have been lost it wasn’t anything he needed to blame himself for? Or would it be better to surprise Sköll with the knowledge of Hati’s presence, allowing him to see her with his own, two eyes? The latter, Ragnar decided, confident that Sköll would choose him as he was confident that the sun would rise and set. “If they were old enough for mother to let them willingly leave the Cove, then they are old enough to take care of themselves and responsibility for their own selves. Do not worry, Tiny Viking,” Ragnar grinned at Floki’s son widely, his grin morphing easily into a smirk.

“I still want you to come to the Ridge. Tell your Alpha you are leaving and come meet me at the borders by Ravensblood.” Ragnar informed Sköll as he leaned in to nudge Sköll affectionately in the neck, before he turned and headed back towards Horizon Ridge.