Ragnar had been on his usual morning patrol when a particular scent had drafted down wind. It was archaic and undeniably familiar to him. It scented of female and the spice — none in particular but it was not the female's scent at the border he recognized but the scent of her that clung faintly to her coat. Quetzalcoatl. Finally she had sent her huntress for the boy, the boy that had been his captive first and then his son after Floki and him had filled his mind, amnesia stricken as it had been, with an alternate reality. A different life then the one the Amazon Prince, spared by his Queen mother despite the Amazon's disregard for male life had previously lived. And now they had came to collect. Ragnar had wondered how long it would take their Queen to come search for him and was surprised it had taken her huntresses this long to finally track him down to a specific location. Why the woman was here, though, Ragnar had no conclusion. Tyr was not in Stavanger Bay and when they had parted he had not asked where his son was going and Tyr had made no intentions of telling him. It was an agreement they had came too. Tyr was capable of taking care of himself and did not need to check up or in with Ragnar.

Ragnar approached the scene just as Thistle asked the Amazon huntress at their borders why she was there. Ragnar knew why the Amazon was there, having always assumed that this day would come, except perhaps it would not come to the reckoning that Floki had always feared it would come too. After all, Tyr did not remember that life. An unfortunate side effect of the head injury he had taken during the initial struggle. The Amazon Prince had been strong, well trained by the Amazon women but was no match for one Berserker let alone two of them. You are far from home, Amazon, Ragnar spoke to her, giving her his usual coy smirk figuring that she would either confirm or deny his suspicions when she responded to Thistle's question.

The Amazon woman did not directly respond to him, not entirely unexpected to the scarred Scandinavian whom had dealt with their Quetzalcoatl on numerous occasions. She had spoken to him because she had no real choice but her disdain had been made clear with every clipped response she had given him. With Thistle's presence it made sense to Ragnar that the Amazon before them would directly speak to her rather than directly speak to him. Given their disposition towards men Ragnar had a hard time understanding how their Queen had grown to love her son — love him enough Floki had told him to give the boy a name that was never before afforded to men and to raise him as their Prince. Ragnar supposed at the end of the day Quetzalcoatl was a wolf like any other and more than that a mother and he supposed that love was enough for her to twist her own traditions to include her child. Or perhaps, because he looked so much like her she had thought to spare his life. As the Amazon woman described his Týrr he smirked slowly. What had he spat that his name was when Floki and him had lunged for him? Tezcacoatl. She was looking for a wolf that existed but also ...didn't. The amnesia had been nothing more than a coincidence but Ragnar had taken full advantage of it, nevertheless. Originally he had intended for the Amazon Prince to become his slave but had decided that giving him new, false memories — making him become Ragnar's son — was more of an insult towards Quetzalcoatl.

He had no desire to go to war with the woman, not then and not now, but he took satisfaction of knowing that, technically, he had her and her Huntresses in the his grip. Only, they didn't know it; the damage was already done. He was not sure if the boy would ever regain his memories.

Thistle spoke then that they had a few wolves that were brown and white but none marked so rarely. Thistle might not have realized who it was the woman had just described but of course, Ragnar had. He had known about the boy long before Floki and him had ambushed him on his move with Tartok. He doesn't exist anymore. Ragnar spoke to the woman with simply, truthfully. He lives do not worry, The Viking spoke after a pause, soft voice accented heavily, gaze resting heavily upon the Amazon woman. But he is not who he used to be. With that, the Jarl fell silent.

Ragnar let out a soft, mirthless chuckle when the Amazon woman spat that she didn't care if he knew who he was or not that she intended to take him home, regardless. The mental of image of the woman at their borders attempting to make his stolen son do something he didn't want to do was an amusing one and the scarred Scandinavian made no attempts to hide his arrogant smirk. She knew Tezcacoatl — whatever the boy had been before Ragnar and Floki had made him into Týrr, a mortal image of the God whose name he shared — she didn't know Týrr. The stolen Prince of the Amazons had two different wolves, two personalities and two lives within him and Ragnar was overly confident that the Scandinavian was the more dominant. What boy wanted to bear a false title of Prince knowing that the feral woman of his birth pack would never truly give him the respect that they afforded one another? Quetzalcoatl had been soft, had loved her spawn and her weakness had drug him into a path of his own destruction. Ragnar liked to believe that he had saved the boy from that. Gave him the chance to choose his own path.

This little girl thought she was going to take the Heathen Prince back to her Queen and that all would be as it once was. She and her Queen were of no consequence to Ragnar. He had once delved to have her Quetzalcoatl but he could never bring himself to grovel at her feet like a slave. He was not her slave — he was no one's slave. Thistle surprised Ragnar when she went off on a rant to the Amazon woman, especially given how poorly Tyrr had received her and Tveir. He hated to burst his Queen wife's bubble but she did not know who or what she was challenging in defense of his stolen son. Thistle wasn't a trained fighter and the Amazon was ...that was what they lived to do. Fight, and they were impressive. And ruthless. He did not tell Thistle that, keeping his lips shut not wanting the Amazon to know there were rifts between them. It annoyed Ragnar some when Thistle dismissed the woman, ordering her from their borders. Who said he was done leading the Amazon woman on with his riddles? He had only gotten started. He suffered an ...unfortunate head injury and knows nothing of who he once was. Ragnar informed the Amazon. I would like to see you try to force him into leaving with you. If he knew the concept of money or had anything he could use as money he would have paid to see it.

Neither woman seemed inclined to stand down, and Ragnar hid his surprise as Thistle's outraged reaction behind a stoic mask well. He had never expected Thistle to feel so strongly about Tyrr, considering he had heard, from both sides, that their last encounters had not gone very well. Still, he wondered if it was actually Tyrr Thistle was concerned about or the fact that this woman was threatening to take away his freedom with her talk of taking him back anyway. However, Ragnar was not going to question it and simply let it go. The amazon told them clean cut that she was taking him back to his Queen mother and that they weren't going to interfere. Ragnar only smirked at the woman as she took her leave. He had no intentions of interfering in his eldest son's life, but he knew that despite her arrogance she probably would not get very far with Tyrr. The prince she had once known had been destroyed by Floki and Ragnar himself when they had spun their webs of a false life. There was nothing of her Tezcacoatl to dig back up. When the Amazon was out of sight he gestured with his muzzle for Thistle to follow and headed into deeper into Stavanger Bay.