The trip to the Spine was a long one, and Ragnar was in no rush. He had things to return to yes, and this wasn't a casual stroll around the Teekon Wilds, but it was also a delicate mission; it required his patience. The days were chilly and the nights colder still. He had to watch out for his own health, as well. The scarred Scandinavian was built for frigid temperatures, had lived through the worst of them in the Cove but even so he knew to be careful. There was a newer pack hanging around these parts, he discovered as he passed it on his way to the Firestone Hot Springs. It did not smell like a very big pack and idly, Ragnar wondered how it would fare in the coming months. Of course, Stavanger Bay had thinned out a bit, itself. It was a fairly common trend at this time of the year, and though it worried Ragnar he did not let that worry consume him. He would see them through the hardships that came their way. It was his job, after all.
A soft shiver rippled down his spine as the steam that came off of the hot springs invited him near them, soaking up their warmth. Ragnar did not step into the water, instead laying down on the bank of one, letting the muggy warmth surround him, deciding that a break might be worth the wasted time.
Cautiously she approached one of the edge pools, the oppressive heat of the place not exactly unpleasant. After a while, though, she knew it would get old and she would need to depart for the cooler air further off. For now it felt nice, loosening her up and relaxing her tense muscles. She had always been tightly wound, jumping from place to place with the energy (and grace) of a crazed rabbit. Even the sedating steam could only do so much.
Thus, when she saw that she was not alone here, her ears perked up and her tail began to fan wildly with enthusiasm. "Hello!" The male's rough appearance and impressive size did nothing to curb her greeting, though she did not approach too quickly for fear of alarming him. She had crossed that bridge with the last outsider she met and still felt badly for startling them.
She was about ready to move on, somewhat disheartened when he said he hadn't expected company but not too put out. After all, wolves needed their space sometimes! It was no personal statement towards her if he was enjoying a moment of solitude.
Her enthusiasm returned, though, when he invited her to stay (in a sense). He seemed super nice and honestly reminded her a bit of her brother with his mellow tone of voice. Serious, but not unfriendly.
"Great! I love company myself, though you never know if anyone you meet feels the same!" She came closer to him and plopped herself down. Some might have found his scars and size intimidating, but growing up with a father who had been an assassin by trade for a long while, Vienna was completely used to such things. After all, she had a couple of sizable scars herself. As she came closer, she caught the scent of salt on his fur, and her eyes widened. "You come from the coast?! Ohh, is it lovely there? I so want to visit, but it's quite a ways from the Spire." Even just the brief whiff was enough to bring back memories of home, nostalgia burning through her with bittersweet intensity.
I am Ragnar, He introduced having debated, for a split second, if he wanted to give his moniker or not, deciding in the next second that giving his real name was no huge deal. The Jarl, He paused with a wolfish little grin tugging at the edges of his lips. More commonly known as Alpha of Stavanger Bay.
"Jarl," she tried out the word herself, it was strange but kind of fun to say. "It's nice to meet you, Jarl Ragnar! My name is Vienna." So he was an Alpha... that was cool! It was always nice to meet leaders who could treat wolves not of their own pack with respect. Some were territorial even on neutral ground. "Stavanger Bay, huh? I don't think I've ever met anyone from there, though since it's so far away I guess that isn't surprising." She wracked her brain.... nope, no one from there.
Ragnar nodded when his companion explained that she had lived near the coast as well, but went on to explain that living on a mountain was different but that to her it did not feel wrong. Ragnar had no desire to ever live on a mount but he thought that he understood.
"So is a Jarl the same as an Alpha? Or is there more to it?" She was curious as to his accent, the strange title, and the culture that both spoke of. Obviously it was foreign to her own knowledge. She wasn't sure how into sharing he was, but it had never hurt before to ask. If he hailed from lands far beyond these, as his way of speaking would suggest, then perhaps sometime she could hear about them. The chronicler in her yearned for some good heritage to explain the intriguing accent.