Ragnar was where he could generally be found most of the time: on the borders. As Head Warden he took his patrolling seriously and with the realized absence of Gavril — which the Viking found strange he had rather began to think of Gavriil as a fixture in Horizon Ridge (had even grown to trust the male) — had been picking up the extra slack that the male’s absence left in it’s wake, leaving less for Pump and Verrine to pick up because Ragnar felt like it was his job to pick up the extra word as Head Warden. Unsure, the Viking was left torn between what to think about Gavriil’s continued absence. If he saw it as a betrayal or an accident. Ragnar knew for a fact that neither Pump or himself had given Gavriil any sort of mission to explain his absence (surely Pump would have informed Ragnar if she had) and he was left feeling more and more …disappointment. He was disappointed in Pump and her unwillingness to address the issue with the Isle wolves and now he had to add the disappointment in Gavriil to the growing list as well. Clearly, Ragnar needed to stop trusting these posh summer wolves.

His ears had slowly began their descent until they were flush with the strong curve of his skull, knowing that there was nothing he could do to fix the situations other then challenge Pump or finally break off from her. He didn’t want to challenge her because for him a challenge was to the death and he really wasn’t interested in the Ridge territory anyway; but it wasn’t just Gavriil. Diluculo was gone (though he wasn’t complaining there) and Kennedy hadn’t been scented anywhere within the territory for some time. Now was not the best time for their numbers to be gradually dwindling down to nothing and it bothered the Viking. It was easy to pin the blame onto Pump without a second thought because he was frustrated with her, because while he was a leader too, she was the one who called all of the shots. He was done with trusting these wolves. All trust got him was disappointment and eventually: betrayal.

The soft call, barely loud enough to travel very far, pulled him viciously from his thoughts and his brow furrowed as he lengthened his pace to arrive to where the call had originated from on the borders. For a split second, with a lurch of his heart to his throat, he thought he was looking at his mother. Except the girl before him was obviously that: a girl. Far too young to be Kenna. He approached her cautiously; black, leathery nostrils flaring as he inhaled her scent. Faintly, he could smell the Cove and Sköll, and Fenrir, but it was obvious she had been traveling alone for some time. Instantly, Ragnar had to bite back the chiding that threatened to spill from betwixt his lips not knowing the situation that saw Hati — his (half) sister — to the borders of the Ridge.

“Hati,” Ragnar greeted her, his soft, heavily accented voice holding his curiosity.

The girl’s eyes met his and his heart gave a painful palpitation as it slammed into him just how much she looked like Kenna. It made sense, given that Hati was her daughter and his half sister after all, yet, it still effectively worked to wind him nevertheless. All of Kenna’s sons to Eitri ended up looking more like Eitri then they did Kenna and though Ragnar had begrudgingly accepted Sigurd as his mother’s new mate (he could never see him as father for that was asking far, far too much) he was happy that Kenna was happy and that she had finally gotten her wish: a daughter that looked rather like a spitting image of her. Who was Ragnar to begrudge her, her happiness, after all? He had worked hard to prove that he was the good son all along (though idly he wondered if she still fussed and fawned sickeningly over Váli as she had). The girl sounded exhausted and as he approached his pace slowed. While he would have normally displayed his dominance, physically showing his importance and rank within this pack in the presence of the child he could not. He was still a family man at heart, no matter what rank he held. “You are tired, child?” It was an observation more than it had been anything else. His eyes checked her over, relief washing through him like a cool wave as he noted that aside from being exhausted she did not appear to be, otherwise, hurt.

Hati was young, yes, but old enough that Kenna allowed her to leave the Cove. Not, apparently, as Hati told it, without a companion. One that Ragnar thought was rather fitting: Sköll son of Ragnar’s closest friend: Floki. The boy was significantly older than Hati and her twin, Fenrir, and if Ragnar remembered correctly should have been entering his age of sexual maturity soon. There were many questions that seethed in Ragnar’s mind, each one important. Where was her twin, Fenrir? Had he stayed behind in the Cove with Kenna and Sigurd? How was their mother? Was she well? Did Sigurd still make her happy? What was the condition on Váli? Nerian had spoken that he had became violent, especially towards Nerian who belonged to Ragnar. Was his little brother deteriorating as Björn had before Ragnar had killed his eldest brother (for a woman, admittedly, and revenge for their father) and inherited the helm. “I am sure he will understand when you tell him,” The son of Floki was not as strange as his father but the Tiny Viking was still strange by many concepts to Ragnar, nevertheless. His response hedged that Sköll was nearby — as it was he was nearby with the Isle wolves, though Ragnar couldn’t fathom how he got caught up with them. Regardless, Ragnar planned on rescuing the boy from Majesty’s clutches and bringing him where he, too belonged: in Horizon Ridge with his …something of a family.

Ragnar was silent when Hati explained that she dreamt of a raven, no doubt in Ragnar’s mind that it was Odinn and if not the Allfather than either Huginn or Muinnin both of whom were well known symbols of Odinn. Hati’s question was timid, almost as if she was humbled by the fact that the Allfather himself had specifically sought to help her. “I know Odinn helped you find me, Hati,” The conviction and reverence in which Ragnar spoke left no room for consideration that he doubted his own words; because he didn’t. To Ragnar, it was as obvious as the sun rising in the day and the moon rising in the night. She was not the first that had left the Cove to find Ragnar and for some reason the Viking doubted she would be the last. Dagrun was first, then Nerian, and now Hati and Sköll (though Ragnar assumed he got a little confused). “I am only the Second in Command, the Beta, in this pack,” for now, he added absently. “But I have enough power to accept you into our ranks, Hati. Come; I have many questions.” He smiled at her then, offering his sister a rare, albeit genuine smile as he gestured with his muzzle for her to step within the borders and officially become apart of Horizon Ridge.