Days after his altercation with Thistle Cloud and his subtle threat to kill Gunnar left Týr with the aftermath which was a melting pot of boiling guilt, shame, horror that he had actually meant the threat; and a question that he knew he needed to answer. Was he truly that desperate for recognition from Ragnar? Killing a free man or woman in the Scandinavian's culture wasn't accepted but at the same time Týr didn't feel remorse for having the idea of killing another male. Erasing competition at any and every cost. He wasn't sure what was happening to him, if this had always been something within him, only realizing it now when he was forced to face it, or if he was becoming some kind of demon. It seemed to him that his jealousy was getting the better of him and that the best course of action was to simply leave Thistle Cloud and her spawn alone from now on. They only seemed to aggravate him and bring something out of the Rekkr that was ugly. Something he didn't want to see come to the surface ever again.

It was with that in mind that Týr had left the free territories close to Stavanger Bay figuring Thistle could continue to not tell Ragnar about his presence in the Wilds and that he would pretend like all of them — including Ragnar — did not exist. Taking a deep breath of air, alerting him that he was closing the distance between claimed pack lands and himself, causing his pace to slow and his course to alter so that there was more than a respectful distance between the scent markers and his body, he kept walking, following the twisting river that curved around the pack he assumed was Blacktail Deer Plateau's borders. In reality, Týr had no real reason for lingering so close other than he hadn't been paying as much attention as he should have been. He hoped that he could get away with following the snaking river further north, away from the no-man's land that acted as a buffer without attracting the attention of one of the pack's wardens.

The morning was fair, the sun warm as it's heated rays brushed through the tendrils of his chocolate brown fur like fingers, the earthen bank close to the water soft and pliable under his paws, walking the edge like a tight rope, pausing to wash his paw off in the shallows of the water, the mud coming free of his fur and paw pads, washing down stream like blood being washed away by the ocean.

The current at the shallows was not terribly fast and he realized that even in the deeper parts of the river he could easily cross it. He was a strong swimmer from days spent in the sea in Odinn's Cove but there were some currents, even so, that would be powerful enough to sweep him away. Even the sea had the power to snuff out his life like the snipping of a spider web's tether. If Ragnar had taught him anything it was that life was delicate. So easily taken; then again the Gods were good at that. Giving with one hand while they took mercilessly with the other. Týr watched the last streak of mud being carried away by the current as if he found the motion extremely fascinating; in reality he was desperately looking for something, anything to take his mind off of the torrents of emotions that were ravaging his insides. Should have never went there, He scolded himself with a scowl twisting the corner of his lips, staring at his rippling reflection in the water. It only angered him, especially when Thistle admitted that she hadn't told Ragnar about him when Ragnar was the only reason he wanted to visit Stavanger Bay in the first place. He didn't really care about his step mother and step, half siblings whatever it was that they were. Especially not that he had had a falling out with her over her unwillingness to fill him in on family business a family, he felt inclined to remind her, he had been apart of much longer than she. She was new — not him.

Giving his head a quick shake in attempt to dispel those thoughts before they could rouse his anger from it's uneasy and tentative slumber. The last thing he wanted was to keep dwelling upon it until he did go back and do many things everyone would live to regret soon after. He glimpsed up then, ears cupping forth atop his skull at a faint noise and before he knew what he was doing he began to back track, knowing that he needed to stop himself before he hit that point of no return. He wanted her to pay for denying him what he really wanted, and he wanted the annoying child to pay for living (not realizing that it wasn't even Ragnar's — nor that Týr himself wasn't, either). What was Ragnar going to do to him? Kill him? Then he'd be without any sons which was the exact opposite of what all of them knew he wanted. That was all the women were good for to Ragnar, baby making machines, just like Týr's own mother. They were foolish if they thought anything better of the Lodbrok.

He stopped, however, when he lifted his eyes from his paw tracks and caught the glimpse of a red coat on the opposite side of the river bank, downwind of him. Brow furrowed as he continued forward, weary until it sunk in that he recognized her. Tuwawi had told him that Fox had left Swiftcurrent Creek but nothing more and Týr thought that it meant she had left the Wilds period. Fox? Týr asked, unsure if it was really her or just some kind of illusion though nothing indicated that it was such a thing.

Fox greeted him with a 'you' letting on the distinct impression to Týr that she had forgotten his name. He was not offended by that realization given the fact that he had not remembered Tuwawi's name, and if it were not that Fox's name was so simple, or something he used on nearly an everyday basis due to references to the species he probably would have forgotten her name, as well. As it was, though, Fox's name was easy to remember and hence it stuck in the young Rekkr's mind. I am Týr, or Sveinn, He did not ask her if she remembered now that he had given her his two names, knowing that it wasn't, really, a big deal if she remembered or not. He had once harbored a crush for the girl on the opposite side of the river but he liked to think that he had moved on from it.

Fox told him to meet her down stream and without giving him a chance to truly answer she took off. For a few seconds Týr stared after her, crystalline blue eyes apprehensive before after a few moments of that he followed after her on his side of the river. Given her head start, Fox beat him to the spot she had been speaking of, her red coat making it easy for the Rekkr to find her. She had crossed over to the side he occupied and Týr's pace slowed as he drew near. It has been a while, Fox, He spoke softly, giving her a soft smile. Tuwawi has told me that many things have changed. Unbeknownst to Týr he had no idea just how correct on that matter he was.

Fox did not seem to harbor any reservations about greeting him, instead closing the distance between them to nudge him on the cheek. It was not a gesture that Týr could not entirely make sense of. It was a friendly gesture despite the fact that he had left Swiftcurrent Creek, worse yet without any sort of word. The truth was he had had a moment of cowardice in his validation that he wasn't good enough. Týr was not so arrogant to run around thinking that he was the Gods gift in looks and skill. He was as self conscious as any other teenager and had always feared as much. To have Haunter patronize him for it after he had lost his kill that day, proving that he was obviously no competition for the ebony male Týr had left. Not on the terms of giving up as it had first felt and likely, seemed. He had left to push himself, to work on making himself better. If he had succeed or not, he couldn't be sure but regardless he was here with the intentions of planting roots that he had been apprehensive of planting previously.

She responded to his question as she pulled away and fairly presented one of her own. Where did you go? Týr gave her a soft, tightened smile that did not quite reach his eyes. No where, He wasn't being sarcastic but honest. He had not left with any sort of destination in mind, neither had he sought out a specific destination. I wandered ...and worked on pushing myself to my limits. Occasionally breaking them in the process. He would run until his lungs burned with the desire to draw in the crisp and fresh breath and his legs screamed and ached for respite, until his muscles were sore and took days to cease being sore in retaliation. It was how Ragnar had taught him. Push your body and mind to their very boundaries and you will be rewarded for it. Tuwawi did not tell me you're with the Plateau wolves, It could have been that the other fire kissed woman hadn't known, or maybe hadn't thought Týr would have been interested in it. He wanted to ask how and why but for the sake of not wanting to be rude and prying kept his curiosity in strict check.

The Rekkr was oblivious to Fox's reaction to his casual drop of Tuwawi's name, not knowing the details of Fox's departure nor having the curiosity to ask. It wasn't that he wasn't curious, per say, but more than the refined Northman had more manners than to ask. If Fox wanted to tell him she could and if she didn't she didn't have too. Týrr nodded in understanding when she told him that her departure had not been planned and that there was a good chance that Tuwawi had not known where Fox had gone. In the face of the truth, it didn't matter if Tuwawi had known or didn't. Týrr now knew where Fox was, though he had no idea what he intended to do with the information. He would not tell anyone and had no real reason to hang onto it. He followed her gaze when she asked him if he would stay, taking in the plateau. The Rekkr's heart gave a skipping palpitation as he weighed her question heavily in his mind, not liking the heavy pressure in his chest. He knew, without knowing how, that his future did not tie in with hers, if it had ever had the slim possibility of it in the first place; despite that he did not want to give up being her friend (if that was even what they were) he did not want to potentially disappoint her or make her angry. Yet, he had made a promise to Tuwawi.

He was silent for a stretch of moments, looking down from the plateau, letting his gaze touch her before it lowered down to the earth. I have made a promise to Tuwawi, and Njal, He looked up then and offered her a sheepish smile. I have pledged myself to their pack, He took a breath and let it out. I am sorry. But he thought that Fox would be fine. She was strong and resilient and he wasn't so deluded to think that she needed him in any shape or form. It was a surprising question as it was because he had thought she might have been angry at him for leaving before.

Fox seemed confused by his admittance that he had pledged loyalty to Njal and Tuwawi, which he understood because he had not been specific, asking if he meant Swiftcurrent Creek. No, He was not sure how much he was supposed to tell anyone but figured that it wasn't exactly a secret. Surely, if it was something to be coveted Tuwawi would have mentioned such. They are branching off of Swiftcurrent Creek and Tuwawi extended an invitation for me to join them and I accepted, He didn't want to admit to Fox that he was still trying to find his own path, rather than blindly follow path that his father had carved out for him following in his footsteps; that he was still trying to figure out who he was. He had a name, yes, but it did not define him. It was only something to address him with and even then it was not unique to him. It was a name he shared with a God.

I am glad that you are well, though, Fox, Týrr offered her sincerely, focusing his crystalline blue eyes upon her with a soft sheepishness, keeping it formal and polite. He did not know of how she ended up in the Plateau, nor why and he figured that it wasn't his business to know. He did not have a lot of information to offer Fox if she inquired about the pack that Tuwawi and Njal intended to build, but if she did ask he would tell her what he knew.

I will, Týrr replied to Fox's well wishes to Tuwawi and Njal. Týrr was not sure when the next time he would see Tuwawi would be for she seemed to be the one more prominent at the Glacier's unclaimed lands at the moment — but he would tell one of them the next time he saw one of them. It was the least that he could do for Fox, after all, given that he had left her and the Creek without so much as a goodbye. Which wasn't his proudest moment, admittedly. The extension of her invitation was surprising but the young Rekkr accepted it with a bow of his head. Thank you, He spoke, falling silent once more when Fox admitted that she needed to get back. He, too, needed to return to the Glacier though he had quite a bit of ways to go before he would reach the territory the Sveijarn pair intended to claim again. A four or five days, maybe, providing the weather was good enough for him to travel in. Good luck. He told her retreating form. When she had fully disappeared from his line of sight, Týrr turned and headed in the opposite journey figuring that it wouldn't hurt to fill his stomach. He had a long trip before him, after all.