Slowly, she sat upright again, her body weaving slightly. It took a few beats for her to recollect how she'd gotten here. Earlier this morning, she'd ventured off on her own and found her way to the plateau's edge. She'd gone out into the grasslands looking for Trouble again. Finding nothing, the bored pup had decided to wade in the river, unaware that it had swelled up from last night's heavy rain. Trouble had found her in the form of rapids, which quickly pulled her under and sent the struggling, crying puppy many miles downstream and nearly drowned her before spitting her up on this very bank.
A sudden tickle in one of her enormous ears caused Osprey to rapidly shake her head, sending droplets spraying everywhere. Swallowing, the whelp tipped her black muzzle into the air and sniffed. Although she was a little bit afraid of her strange surroundings and the sense of being utterly lost, the little Warrior-to-be was mostly just curious about her whereabouts. As soon as her legs stopped quaking, she would definitely have to check out everything.
Blue eyes studied her, where on earth was this poor little creature from, and how did she get this far. She had no scent on her as the river had quite easily washed it away. It was a miracle she was alive. Hello little one. she talked to the pup with quiet and calming voice as best she could, trying not to startle her, but also to get her to trust her.
She really honestly didn’t care if Ragnar would say no, she planned on taking care of this poor woe begotten thing, and she would have no arguments. Poor thing lost and all alone, probably scared and worried.
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| Without the magnetism of his Gods drawing him to Ravensblood Forest, Ragnar wasn’t sure why he kept coming back. It was the second time within a couple of days that he had went to the once Godswood. Last time, though, he had merely been investigating, poking around the borders of Horzion Ridge to make sure his sister Hati hadn’t returned there. While Ragnar understood his baby sister was of the age to make her own decisions and nearing her adulthood as the months weaned on it wasn’t as if he could just turn off his protective instincts. Instincts that while once might have been big brotherly had begun to transition into fatherly despite that Hati had a father and didn’t need Ragnar acting as such to her. He couldn’t help it. He was nearly three years her elder and by all rights old enough to be Hati’s father (as it was he hoped his reproductive organs still worked as well as Sigurd’s and his mother’s when he was their age).
After concluding that Hati might have went back to Fenrir (though the thought didn’t seem to comfort Sköll) he had no real reason to be out this far. The activity around Wheeling Gull Isle had seemed to pick up since he had last been there though he, for the most part ignored them. They were far enough away now that they didn’t concern him (he was still passing his nosy-ness off as being an Outrider but he was in no mood to pick a potential fight with them over it). Today, explainable he had caught sight of the one eyed raven early in the morning. Odinn, and there was a pull, a inkling that whispered in the back of his mind that he needed to go to the Ravensblood. Needing no more encouragement than that the Viking had set out.
What he had found there was nothing short of unexpected to the scarred Northman having crossed the scent of his wife and second born in the forest. He supposed it wasn’t surprising and assumed that she was either taking him exploring or telling him of the …history of the place. At the very least it held significance to the Loðbrók couple. He had followed it, thinking that, if it was a history lesson, he might barge in and offer his own stories to entice their youngest son but slowed when he heard Thistle speaking in a quiet, gentle tone that sounded as if she were attempting to calm someone but had the distinct feeling based off of her word choice that she wasn’t speaking to Tveir. He shrugged through the last bushes and trees in his way, eyes of Caribbean ice studying the small black child Thistle’s attention was focused upon. She looked wet and frightened and thinking of his own daughter with a sharp pang in his heart Ragnar’s head lowered as he approached the scene (trying, if it was possible with his scars) to make himself appear less…threatening. "Hello," Ragnar mimicked his wife, glad that his voice was naturally quieted and soft lacking the boisterousness of many of his ilk. "What is your name?" He asked her as he moved to Thistle’s side, mindful of Tveir.
Was this what Odinn was signaling him too earlier? It appeared to be like he was, and if it was so it explained the subconscious tug towards the (even if subconsciously he’d probably just been tracking Thistle). |
She scarcely noticed it when a third wolf arrived on the scene and approached her. Eyes narrowed against the pain, she only looked up when a masculine voice spoke. They widened at the sight of him. White wolves were rare in Osprey Jr.'s world, as were wolves with this many scars. His eyes were his most arresting feature. The young girl was enchanted immediately.
"I'mmm..." she tried to respond but the migraine made it very difficult to focus. Concentrating hurt her head more, though she finally got it out: "Junior!" She hiccoughed and said woefully to all three wolves, "My head hurts real bad," and sank back to the ground. Her forelegs rose up to clap over her face, as if blocking out the light might help, though it only made things worse when her right paw smacked a growing bump on the top of her head (a souvenir from her voyage to this place).
Thistle turned to Ragnar and spoke softly in a whisper I'm taking her with us, she is obviously hurt and she needs our help. She didn't wait for an argument she just looked at him with sharp blue eyes daring him to tell her no.
She then turned back to the youth Junior huh, that's a pretty name. I'm Thistle, this is Tveir and this is Ragnar. Can I help you?
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| The child’s eyes widened at the sight of him, understandably, for the Viking assumed that it was his scars that had caused it. As the girl’s gaze touched his own he held it, fascinated, in turn, by her bi-colored irises. He’d never seen a wolf have two different iris colors before. His brow furrowed slightly though it was with curiosity instead of confusion or aggression. Who was this dark colored child with strange eyes? Where had she came from. It seemed a little obvious that she had likely been swept down onto the bank by the river but he wondered how far it had taken her while noting that she must have been strong to survive it. The current, if strong enough, could be enough to drown an adult wolf as the current in the Totoka river was known to do. She introduced herself as Junior and the scarred Northman studied her again with further intrigue.
Ragnar was hit with a bought of déjà vu when she spoke that her head hurt before having smacked herself in the face with her paw. It was reminiscent of Sveinn when Floki and Ragnar had captured the boy. He, too, had suffered a head injury though she, at least, remembered her name. Sveinn had suffered amnesia in what the Viking Healer had considered permanent. Of course, this scenario was vastly different. The child was much younger and the river had stolen her from …where ever she was from. He glimpsed down at Tveir when his son spoke to him in their native tongue. "já, tveir. vera varkár. við vitum ekki hversu slæmt hún er sár enn." The Jarl responded to his young Thistle mini-me before he met his wife’s gaze and his ear twitched to catch her stage whisper to him before his gaze went to the girl. Thistle’s gaze nearly dared him to tell her no, but even without her assertiveness in the situation he hadn’t intended on leaving the girl. She was alone, frightened, and injured. And Odinn had encouraged him to go here. There was no doubt in Ragnar’s mind that this was Fate. He did not know the ramifications of it yet but he didn’t need to know.
"We will take care of her," Ragnar murmured in agreement with his wife, figuring that they could take care of the child until someone came to claim her. If, he realized, someone came to claim her. He turned his attention back to Junior once more and addressed her after Thistle had asked permission to help her and spoke, "My wife is a healer she can ease the pain," He looked at Thistle wondering if she could find what she needed in Ravensblood to help ease her headache. "After she gives you something to ease the pain we’ll see about taking you to our pack, maybe get you something to eat." He wasn’t giving her a choice, really, she was far too young to go around on her own and seeing the goose bump she was suffering from he thought it was best if she remain, even, in their den with them so Thistle could keep an eye on her. Or if not Thistle than Sköll. |
Another child might have told the trio of strangers that she was lost, that she had a home and a pack and a family, yet Osprey Jr. found these developments so exciting she simply forgot to mention these things. When eventually they were asked of her, she would probably tell a fib or two. Although her head was pounding, she thrilled at the sense of adventure that presently grew within her. She was young and wild and free!
"Okay," she said. These wolves might assume that she was a quiet youth, though as soon as her headache passed, they would find out the truth. After a beat of silence, it occurred to her to ask, "What's your names?"
Thistle wondered where her parents were if it was one of her children she’d be an absolute mess at this point and she would probably have run Ragnar Ragged making him look for them. The uncomfortable thought that passed her mind after that, was that somewhere someone simply didn’t care and that alone made her want to tear into someone, surely this child had someone who loved her somewhere. I’m thistle cloud, this little guy is called Tveir and this is Ragnar. She answered the girl’s question.
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| Thistle had departed confirming that Ragnar was quite capable of watching both Tveir and Junior, and though she wasn’t gone long the Viking settled back upon his haunches, eyes never leaving the river spewed girl, deliberating in the silence if he wanted to prod for more information than her name, like who her parents were, what pack she had came from. Those were the obvious questions to be asked but even Ragnar was a little more concerned about the goose egg she had growing on her head, and figured that their first concern should be making sure that didn’t house nasty side effects like Sveinn’s did (despite that she had given them a name), and nursing her back to health. She was someone’s child — little did he know his thought mirrored his wife’s own in that moment — and if roles had been reversed he would want someone to nurse Gyda back to health before they tried to return her. Once she was healthy then they could ask her the follow-up questions.
Currently their priorities were pretty clear: get her headache under control, keep an eye on that goose egg for a few days and make sure she ate what Ragnar thought a child of her size, he suspected she was a little older than his own, should have been eating. "Thistle," Ragnar stage whispered to his wife after she had given out an appropriate dosage of poppy seeds. They were tiny, like the Berserker mushrooms and the Viking wondered if they packed the same kind of punch. Except he had never felt tired from the mushrooms, only feverish and delirious when he came down from the high and the blood frenzy they were thought to induce. "She looks old enough to eat meat without being regurgitated, right?" He inquired proving, again, just how little he knew of small children. He was by and far used to Thistle regurgitating meat for their children even if it still made him uncomfortable and caused him to avoid feeding time for them like the his small family had the plague.
"Floki gave Sveinn the berserker mushrooms for his headaches when he suffered from his head injury," Ragnar spoke to his wife in a thoughtful tone though his eyes had never left the sopping child with those fascinating by colored eyes. Ragnar could attest for their potency that pain was not felt while under their effect of course Sveinn had been a boy grown not a young child still in toddler-ish stages. "What is your favorite thing to eat Junior?" Ragnar inquired figuring once they got her safely to the Bay and settled with Thistle and the other children he could go out and hunt something special for her to help solidify a bond of trust even though she seemed to trust them well enough. |
The motherly wolf introduced herself as Thistle Cloud, then motioned to the pup and the larger male, referring to them as Tveir and Ragnar, respectively. "I'm Junior!" she replied, forgetting that she'd already given them her name. She grinned at the pup in particular, his blue eyes enchanting her nearly as much as his father's.
The two adults talked among themselves for a moment, during which Osprey Jr. gathered her strength and shuffled nearer to the other whelp. "Hi," she said sotto voce, unknowingly mimicking Ragnar. She reached out a black paw to tap Tveir in the chest and perhaps get him to play, even though her head was still pounding something fierce. Nothing could keep Osprey Jr., Warrior-in-training, down for long!
But Ragnar spoke, leaving her foreleg dangling in midair as she looked up at him. "Food!" she replied enthusiastically and unhelpfully.
Tveir looked at her and gave her a small smile. he watched her paw coming ever closer waiting for it to tap him, but it never came, Hi. He wagged his tail enthusiastically.
Thistle nodded her head thoughtfully at her husband Yes she is probably a few weeks older than our children. Thistle looked at her husband and sighed, If the headache persists I will try those mushrooms, but for now let's just get her home where she can rest, sometimes that is the best type of healing, rest.
She looked down at the pup, her dusky dark coat reminding her of someone, but she couldn't place it. She shrugged and bent her head down Do you think you can walk Junior?
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| Ragnar’s brow furrowed when the girl repeated her name for them, despite that she had already given it to them previously. Ragnar’s lips were terse and his expression worried for the child despite that in reality besides the feeling of Divine Intervention having no real attachment to her
"No, if the poppy seeds don’t work get Sköll’s opinion before you give her those," Ragnar murmured to Thistle. Sköll had plenty of experience with them and Ragnar was not sure if he would even recommend giving such a small child berserker mushrooms to dull the pain. They had bad side effects, of which Ragnar didn’t even know he suffered from. "I don’t even know if he would recommend it." Sveinn was a different case if in age alone. Her response of food as she neared and took interest in Tveir wasn’t overly specific but Ragnar nodded to the girl nevertheless figuring he would just catch her something nice, or if they still had venison stashed in a cache moved over that the bear hadn’t destroyed before they had moved he would give her some of that. "If not I will carry her," Ragnar spoke up so both his wife and Junior could hear him. It wouldn’t be any different than picking up one of his children and carrying them. |
The man and wife exchanged a few more words. Osprey listened, though between her headache and the heaviness creeping slowly over her body, she didn't do or say much. She didn't even renew her attempt to bat at Tveir. In fact, she only perked up when Ragnar mentioned carrying her. "No!" she cried, insulted by the mere suggestion. "I'm a big girl! I don't need to be carrot!"
To prove she could move under her own steam, Junior pushed herself onto all fours. Although she felt weak, shivery and sleepier by the moment, she insisted on walking a bit drunkenly toward Thistle. She fell gently into the she-wolf's leg, leaning against it. She then looked up at Thistle and Ragnar with a crooked grin as if to say, See?
Thistle Looked at Tveir as he walked up to the girl with a conspiratorial whisper, my dada is a good carrotter, he is you let him carrot youse?
| Ragnar glimpsed at the washed up girl with mild surprise when she cried out a ‘no’ in a tone that clearly suggested he had insulted her by offering to carry her. He had not meant to insult her by extending the option to her, merely he was considering the effect of the poppy seeds. His brow furrowed when she used the word ‘carroted’ instead of carried though he was only able to predict what she had truly meant given the previous context. In fact, Ragnar wasn’t even really sure he knew what a ‘carrot’ was period and so assumed it was a word she had made up. Ragnar’s eyes rose to survey the forest for a moment as Thistle spoke in a quiet voice to the girl and Tveir tried to plead for how Ragnar was a good ‘carroter’. "Carrier, Tveir," He corrected him out of knee-jerk reaction. "It is fine, son. If she wants to walk she can walk." Ragnar wasn’t going to push or force her into anything. "Come, we should be going." He would feel better once they got Junior back to their den where she could rest off the trauma she had suffered for the day. |
Ragnar said they should get going, so Junior took a sluggish step, her damp body leaning heavily against Thistle's left shoulder. "I'm gonna sleepwalk," she said a bit nonsensically as the poppy seeds really began to take hold. Somehow, though, she managed to stay upright and totter alongside the adults and her fellow pup, though she walked a bit like Jack Sparrow after a few too many bottles of rum.