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| It was day two of Junior’s stay in Stavanger Bay with the Loðbrók couple and their children and Ragnar worked to squeeze time in with their newest addition — whether she was a temporary one or a permanent one — treating her just as he would if she was his daughter. He had fallen under the conviction that she was a gift from Odinn, or a sign, one or the other and while at first he had considered her to be shy he had realized the day previous that, that wasn’t the case. In truth he did not mind her boisterousness because it was a trait many Vikings had (one that Ragnar himself didn’t share in) and also one that Tveir had though Junior definitely gave him a solid run for his money. She seemed to be getting better though Ragnar knew that Thistle was still keeping a sharp eye on the girl’s health. He had asked Sköll too as well if the Flokisson got a chance though Ragnar suspected the Tiny Viking wouldn’t go too near her if only because he couldn’t speak common tongue very well and as far as he was aware Junior didn’t speak Norse.
He had traded shifts watching the Bay’s captives with Sköll having him play babysitter to the two trespassers while he tracked down Junior. He assumed she was playing with his children. He was oddly sort of reluctant to ask the girl the questions that he knew needed to be asked of her: who were her parents, where was she from? So she could be returned to them if they didn’t come to the borders looking for her before that. So far no one had came inquiring about a lost child but it had only been two days. If she even had any parents at all, he didn’t know; if she did he was sure they were worried sick about her because he would have been. He would have moved Asgard and Valhalla looking for his children if one of them went missing and would not have eaten or slept until he had found them. Especially if they were as young as Junior. Ragnar paused deliberating between whether he wanted to hit the borders and perhaps invite the girl, if she came at his summon that was, to patrol with him so he could do two things at once, or if he wanted to pull her away from the den if that was where she was. Altering his course he headed towards the border and when he reached it lifted his leg to relieve himself on the nearest tree before he took a deep breath glimpsing out at the vast expense of untamed lands feeling much better than he had in weeks knowing that packs were not literally right on his doorstep anymore. After a few moments he tipped his muzzle and called for Junior, settling upon his haunches to give her a bit to either answer it by appearing or not. It had not been a command and he had left her a choice of accepting to declining it because she was a their guest and did not have the same obligation one of his own children would carry. |
While her parents and family hunted tirelessly for her many miles away, the young girl lazily wandered around the bay's territory, enjoying all the news sights and smells. Occasionally, she squatted to leave her pungent mark on the land, declaring herself as a member of this pack. She didn't understand the ramifications of her actions, nor did she truly understand that by declaring herself a member of Stavanger Bay, she was essentially disowning the plateau. How could Osprey know that she couldn't be a part of two packs at the same time?
Ragnar's deep howl caught her as Junior bent down to sniff at a cluster of wildflowers. Her huge ears quivered, then she began to gallop in the direction of the sound, heeding his call just as she would have her father's. Her over-sized paws quickly carried her to the Alpha male's position. When she approached, the ducked her head and let her tail go limp, its tip wiggling. As much attitude as she could cop, she knew how dominance/submission dynamics worked and was happy to give deference to the white male.
"Whassup, pup?" she asked him (echoing another phrase borrowed from Uncle Atticus), still crouched, eyes lifting briefly to look at his scarred face with bright, open curiosity.
| Ragnar and Thistle hadn’t actually discussed what they were going to do with their newest addition, though their first answer should have been simple, no questions asked: return her to her parents. Except was it really that simple? Any pack scent she had carried prior to being carried by the current of the river had been erased when they had found her. If her parents had assumed she was deceased would they really continue to send envoys out to the nearby packs looking for her? He had lost children once though the circumstances had been largely different, and he knew that there came a point when death had to be accepted. He had buried his stillborn, aborted children hating Dagmar and hating Odinn for taking them from him. The line that had been drawn for him had been obvious. They had been deceased possibly before Dagmar’s body had aborted them and there was no breathing life into them despite how hard the Danish Princess had tried to no avail. Even if there had been a sliver of life in them upon their birth they were not developed enough to survive but a few seconds after being forced from her womb.
Accepting death had always been easier for him, rationalized by his culture as a celebration as a personal victory. However, it hadn’t stopped his fury at Odinn and it hadn’t stopped the pain from losing his first, legitimate children. Perhaps the line was not always easily drawn. He hoped that he never had to find out. Burying stillborns was one thing but he imagined accepting that a child as old as Junior was deceased was probably harder still.
For now she was an orphan to him, and until or if they ever got answers she was under |
Unaware that she'd just been rude, she began to dance on her toes. "Can we do Warrior stuff? Please, please? Please with moose pie on top?" Her tail whirled like a rotor behind her and her large, bat-like ears quivered as she eagerly awaited Ragnar's assent.
| Ragnar watched with mild amusement when the child’s nose wrinkled with the clarity of her distaste for his offer, stating as much soon after with the emphasis she put on the word ‘warden’. "They are of the same vein, lítill álfr" Ragnar spoke smirking slightly at his own nickname for the girl in Norse. She reminded him of an elf only because of her large ears which looked disproportionate on her body yet. Still, he did not expect her to understand it, yet. In time, perhaps, she would. "Wardens are the defense in times of war, protectors of the pack just as much as warriors. You have to know when to defend and when to attack." Speaking about things that centered around war was simple for him. He was war born. His culture lived and breathed battle because often times they had to battle their way out of raids to take their riches with them. "Male warriors in my native tongue are called Berserkers and the female warriors are known as shield-maidens," He told her though she had not asked and added with a small secretive smile, "A Berserker or Sheild Maiden does not stop being what they are just because he, or she, holds a different title. They are still warriors at heart."
Ragnar had not been insulted by her rude outburst, despite that would it have came from any other or his children, admittedly, he otherwise would have been. Perhaps it was because she was an honored guest among them that allowed him the ability to let it roll of his back. Her eagerness to learn to be a sheild-maiden (which was how he thought of female warriors) was an encouraging one and he considered that she wouldn’t make a bad Viking at all. Already, she seemed to hold a penchant for battle, or at least to learn what she could. He admired that in her though he wasn’t so willing to admit it. "I believe I can make the time," Whether he could or not didn’t matter he would make the time just as he would have with his own children. He wasn’t going to deny her her right to knowledge and the battle born pagan had a lot of it. Knowledge that went beyond his own training even, a definite pro to having been born into a pack long standing and rich with culture and skilled Berserkers (and Shield-maidens).
"First," Ragnar spoke not wanting to allow himself to be more distracted by her eagerness. "Can you tell me anything about your birth pack? The names of your parents or family?" He asked because he had to remind himself that maybe she wasn’t truly an orphan and that if it was Gyda that was lost he wouldn’t want the pack that found her to be selfish and keep her from her loved ones. |
She was so distracted by his promise to teach her some "Warrior stuff," she scarcely acknowledged his query. "My mama's name is Hotguy!" she yelled distractedly, then made her impatience known as she sprang at him, rearing up so that her forepaws balanced on his legs and her tail beat the air. "I wanna be a Warrior! A Shield Maiden! Show me, show me, show me!"
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| If anything her loud and crass manners reminded the Viking astutely of his home and the wolves he had grown to know there. Ragnar glimpsed up from Junior briefly to scan the territory beyond for any sign of danger out of nothing more than sheer habit. When he found nothing he contentedly looked back to the Bay’s guest chuckling softly as her whole body wiggled with her apparent joy at his explanation of Berserkers and Shield-Maidens. She yelled that her mother’s name was ‘Hotguy’ and snickered a little to himself at the consideration that someone had named their child ‘Hotguy’ and a female at that. As it was, he didn’t know any Hotguy (actually didn’t know her mother period).
Deciding that was all he was likely going to get from her, at least at the current moment, and with the realization that it gave him literally nothing to go off of on the mission of attempting to find out where she was from and giving her back to her parents, let the issue drop. The scarred Northman’s eyes softened slightly and his snicker morphed into another small smile when she placed her front paws on his leg begging him to teach her. Learning from an actual Shield-Maiden might have been better but since they were fresh out of actual shield-maidens so his Berserker training would have to suffice (minus the ingestion of the mushrooms). "Ok, ok," The Viking gave in with a coy smirk tugging at the edges of his lips. "Why don’t you tell me or show me what you already know about being a warrior or shield maiden." He suggested, figuring that determining what she already knew would make his decision on what to teach her a little easier. |
"I know how to fight and deafen!" she shared breathlessly, meaning defend. "I know some attacks, um..." Momentarily, Osprey fumbled over the words her various instructors had given. "I got the moves," she blurted eventually, not knowing how else to convey the idea that she knew several different movements that were useful in primarily offensive and secondarily defensive combat.
| The child stated that knew how to fight and …defend he assumed was what she had meant, her words breathless with her evident excitement. Ragnar nodded absently to himself once as he considered that it was definitely a pretty good start. After all, without learning the basics of the warrior trade she wasn’t going to get very far without knowing the fundamentals. As she spoke, answering his questions he rose to his paws, pausing a moment to stretch, feeling the tug of the muscles as they extended beneath his platinum coat and scarred flesh. A small chuckle rumbled in the Viking’s chest when Junior proclaimed that she ‘had the moves’ settling his gaze upon her when he had finished stretching, ears slicking back half mast to make up for the fact that his back was to his borders. Like a military man he did not like having his back so openly to the borders, it made him feel overly exposed though he trusted his instinct, senses and intuition to make up for lack of clear eyesight of the vast stretch of untamed lands beyond them. "I want you to practice those moves on me, show me what you can do." He wanted to test her and did not expect her to hold back despite that she felt like a delicate little doll to him, not unlike his own children though she was older and bigger than them. Still, she did not have to be afraid of hurting him, he was well versed with pain and giving her the chance to demonstrate what she knew would give him the chance to teach her how her opponent might move and attack in accordance. He did not plan to hurt her and would definitely hold back considering she was just a child but he felt that the game would be good practice nevertheless. The Viking smirked at her, inviting her to make the first move with his usual coyness. |
Ragnar coaxed her to show him and, as usual, Junior didn't need to be told twice. Thrumming with excitement, she got into position: legs firmly braced against the ground, head low to protect her throat, tail up to offer balance, ears thrust forward, roach hairs hackling and black lips skinning back from her teeth. Although she wasn't quite moving yet, she wanted to show the Alpha male what she knew about proper preliminary posturing. She was surprisingly methodical about her form, considering her unchained excitement a moment ago.
That energy showed itself again when she exploded forward as if fired from a cannon. Teeth gnashing, she aimed for his left foreleg. He was too quick for her, though, and shifted his leg out of range, leaving her teeth to click together on empty air. Used to landing her hits (most likely, her family had humored her somewhat), she shook her head and snorted, then backpedaled and attempted to renew the attack on the same leg. Someone (she couldn't recall who) had explained to her that enemies sometimes expected the unexpected and that striking the same spot twice might catch them by surprise.
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| It did not take much persuasion to get Junior to show off her “moves” to him and the Viking was pleased with her eagerness to learn and to show off. Ragnar studied her form as she took to position, noting the tuck of her muzzle down to protect her throat, the Jarl instinctively mimicking the action himself. "Good, good," Ragnar told her glad to see that her stance was of an extremely well form and he suspected with the proper training she would make a formable shield maiden on the battlefield. Formable and legendary if she was persistent enough to pursue it. She launched for him, and he side stepped her quickly, anticipating it from the quiver of her muscles. Ragnar had always been swift and tended to use it to his advantage. Junior’s teeth made contact with empty air instead of finding the purchase on his leg. He heard her snort and watched as the child backpedaled taking the opportunity to shove in a piece of advice for her, "You must watch the movements of your opponent, Junior, battle is fast you will have seconds to observe and make a move," her second attack at his same leg found it’s mark because he had sacrificed his chance to dodge her again by speaking, his attention not as focused on her as it should have been if it had been a real battle. The Viking didn’t even wince when her teeth made contact with his skin, her grip upon his leg firm. That was not to say that her attack didn’t pack a small punch to it but he was much more susceptible to pain than most and did not play into it even without the Berserker mushrooms to block it. "Second lesson: don’t let them distract you," He smirked coyly down at her and attempted to extract his leg from her grip. "If you’re distracted you aren’t paying as much attention," He studied her for a moment then and inquired, "Have you learned about feinting yet?" Feints went hand in hand with observing because they were useful for throwing an enemy off by poising your body one way but attacking in a different direction instead. |
She rewound his points of advice in her head: watch your opponent; battle moves quickly; don't get distracted. Her tongue lolled from her muzzle in a pant as she stored these nuggets of wisdom away in the back of her mind. Although her attention span could be quite short, just like any pup's, her focus was surprisingly sharp and unwavering whenever it came to battle tactics. It was like she'd been born to be a Warrior.
"Faints?" Junior repeated, "like when you, uh... like this?" Unable to find a synonym in her youthful vernacular, she pretended to pass out at his feet, her tongue lolling even further from her mouth and her eyes rolling in her head until she closed them. She lay still for a moment, then perked up again and jumped back onto her feet. She had no idea how this related to combat, yet she was an open-minded and thirsty pupil.
| The child had not broken skin and had released him when he gave his leg a slight shake. He stared at her in a thoughtful manner for a few moments; her posture had been sublime, and her tactic of taking her opponent off guard by going for the same spot she had missed previously was not a bad one. Ragnar came to the conclusion that either someone had taught her well or she was a natural at being a warrior. Perhaps, he reasoned, it was a bit of both. "That was a wise tactic young Shield-Maiden," He praised though he had almost said ‘little shield maiden’ but had caught himself at the last moment and substituted young. It wasn’t that Junior was little, per say, she was if he had to guess about half the size of a small adult but she was little to him, in the sense that he was bigger than her but mostly because she was still obviously a child. "Going for the same spot you missed again." Ragnar added as if it had just occurred to him to clarify. A chuckle rumbled deep in Ragnar’s chest before it spilled freely from his lips when his young ward/shield maiden in training mistook ‘feints’ for ‘faints’ and pretended to pass out at his paws, even exaggerating with her eyes rolling back and his tongue lulling further out of her mouth. "No child," His shoulders shook with his mirth as it danced in his eyes as he watched her bounce back up to her paws. "The feint I am speaking about is a common battle practice," He drew in a deep breath taking a few steps back from her with the intent of demonstrating as he informed her of it. "A feint is a tactic used to take your opponent off guard. You remember what I said about watching movements? You opponent might be watching your movements as well. In the case you begin to go in one direction and then switch quickly and go opposite of what he or she thinks you will attack them leaving them exposed for a real attack. I will show you," He lunged at her left creating the illusion that he was going for the side before he shifted and went for her right stopping himself when his muzzle was near her neck. The Jarl took a few steps back then studying her face for her reaction. "You can be more creative with it if you want but that is essentially how a feint works," He spoke with a lofty shrug of his shoulders. "Would you like to give it a try?" In the case that she did want to try it for himself, he assumed a defensive position. |
Ragnar's evident mirth softened the blow of having her mistake pointed out to her. She frowned for only a second or two before his laughter infected her, causing her to return his grin. All the while, she listened as he explained the difference between feint and faint. It took a moment for it to click, yet the youth felt she understood perfectly, especially when Ragnar illustrated (earning a small shriek from her). It was a tactic she'd actually used, though she'd never known there was a name for it until now.
"Gots it!" she let him know. When invited to give it another try, Junior didn't need to be asked twice. She gave her guardian what could only be called a shark-like grin, two-toned eyes aglitter, before lunging at his right forepaw, then weaving toward his left, only to leap suddenly upward toward the underside of his chin. Hopefully he would be too busy dancing to avoid her not so gentle headbutt to his lower jaw.
Ragnar give the child a nod when she informed him that she understood the difference. The scarred Scandinavian answered her shark like grin with a coy smirk that tugged at the edges of his lips where he stood, each muscle pulled taunt beneath his platinum silver coat, expecting her feint. He watched as she made a lunge for his right forepaw, as to which drew back on instinct, only to have her leap towards his left. What had left Ragnar admittedly, off his guard, was when she leapt upwards and heat butted his lower jaw. The gnashing of teeth from the impact of her headbutt against his lower jawbone was a little bit jarring, the violent clicking of his teeth as they were forced to contact caused the Viking to take a wide step back from her, before he let out a low, deep chuckle.
"Good. Very good, Junior," Ragnar praised the child as his stomach let out a small rumble of discontent. "Would you like to keep practicing or take a break and see if we can't scavenge something to eat?" He asked and then added, as if he thought it was important to note that he did not like operating on a hungry stomach. "Because I'm hungry."
His praise earned a tight smile. He then proposed they take a break to eat. Osprey was a growing girl and never turned down food. "Yeah, let's eat! I'm starrrving!" she said, showing a flair for melodrama. Junior was sure to add, "But can we keep goin' after we eat? I wanna keep goin'!" Beaming when Ragnar concurred, she bounded after him in the direction of food.