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Onyx was wandering along the beach. These past two weeks or so she'd been bored out of her mind. She hadn't met anyone new, hadn't done anything amazing. She was just waiting for something to happen, when nothing was happening. So today she just walked alongide the shore, her spider-like legs practically tripping over eachother. To face it, Onyx was dumb for her age. She'd missed out on four months of her life where she should have been learning, not to mention she hadn't learned much on the isle or in Stavanger Bay! She had a lot of info to catch up on that other teenagers knew. She needed a teacher. The last time she'd had a real teacher was when she was four months old! Onyx intended to try and change this soon. It wasn't like she didn't know, she knew she was missing something. But she didn't know what. Several months of knowledge had gone down the drain. And also, it wasn't like she'd met a lot of wolves, but only one wolf had asked about what her life was like, and it hadn't been exstensive. Majesty had asked if her mother was deceased, and she'd said yes. That was it. Nobody knew she was an orphan ever since she was four months old, or that she had no living relatives she knew of, or that she felt like nobody liked her, or didn't know why she was alive. What was her purpose here? And if she didn't have a purpose, why was she alive? She wasn't helping anyone by staying around without a purpose.

Winter had come upon them fast and hard, as Ragnar had feared that it would. His worry about the pack's ability to stay afloat only seemed to worsen tenfold as the days pressed on and their ranks depleted. They had lost Mordred and Ranger so soon after another, and now the only adult that lingered in their ranks was Onyx. Of course Gunnar, Nazara, and Gyda could hold their own weight despite that they ranked still as Juveniles, but this did not lessen his worry any. Ragnar had considered that the tides might be changing for the good but now the future was not so bright. Instead it was bleak and unknown. He still had yet to get word to Peregrine that he accepted their offer of an alliance and while he had intended to go nearly as soon as him and Thistle had talked it through the blows to their ranks as wolves dropped off the map one right after another had left him hesitant. Hesitant to leave the lands that he and others had worked to hard to claim as home. It was falling apart, and he was losing sight of why he had thought it was a good idea. In the chaos of his own ambition he considered, was considering stepping down from leadership — at least until their numbers picked up once more.

Ragnar trusted Thistle, and he would advise her where or if she needed it. His ambition would never let him stay as a subordinate for too long, granted, he was not keen on being a subordinate on any margin of reality or if he could even handle it; but it seemed silly to have two leaders for a pack as small and dwindling as the Bay. He was not sure the Bay was going to survive the winter but his decline from leadership would allow him to focus on the caches, borders and on outrider things more than he'd been able too lately, and would allow Thistle to focus on being the Earl pack duty wise. If there was one wolf he would ever bow to it would be his shield-maiden wife, but that was it and out of that no one could expect any more from him.

Not that he had been able to come to a concrete decision on the matter. He still needed to discuss it with his Queen Wife in question which Ragnar suspected might not go over all that well, usually their conversations ended in some kind of fight lately and he did not expect that this one might go any different. His absent walk had taken him to the beach, the lull of the waves crashing and receding upon the shore comforting to the Viking. A black shape caught his eye and he turned his singular eye to the black shape in question, reassured that it was Onyx when her scent wafted down wind. He gave a soft chuff to announce his presence to his subordinate and slowed his pace so that he might speak with her. About what he did not know yet, though he did know that it had been quite some time since either of them had had a one on one talk with one another and he sought to rectify that.

Thanks for joining!

She turned at the voice of Sir Jarl Ragnar Loðbrók. She gasped and then a little scream escaped her. The sky was missing from half of his face, that nice caribbean blue eye gone. Three diagonal slash marks from his muzzle to his eye and an empty socket. She tried to keep her voice from trembling as she lowered her tail, flattened her ears and bowed. Good Day, Sir Jarl Ragnar Loðbrók.. I am sorry for screaming." She said, her eyes not able to leave his face. She knew from Mama that it wasn't nice to stare, but she couldn't help it. It reminded her of Majesty's girlfriend- half of the black wolf's face had been twisted. Of course, he was not twisted, just missing a little something.
What happened? Who took your eye? She asked nervously. Was he okay? Did it hurt? Why would someone do that to a great Jarl like Ragnar? Sure he could be grumpy, but who would tear his eye out?

When Onyx's startled scream pierced the air as she turned to face him, the Jarl recoiled suddenly, front left paw frozen in mid air, wrenching it back towards his chest, ceasing his approach to his subordinate. Assuming that she was in danger or there was something like a massive bear behind him ready to deal out death's blow, the Viking's ears slicked back to his skull and he, with his singular eye, glimpsed over the shoulder he could look out of, lifting black, leathery nose to the sky in the hopes of catching some foreign scent. Of course, he smelled nothing but the salty brine of the sea, Onyx and himself. It sunk in moments later that it had been him that had elicited that response out of his subordinate and a sheepish look crossed the Northman's face, dominating his expression. He had forgotten his more... monstrous appearance. Others being intimidated he was used too, but actually being frightened was a whole different ballpark which made Ragnar wonder how bad it truly looked.

To soothe the air between them the Jarl offered her a cheeky grin in attempts of being soothing though he was not overly confident that it would work at soothing her. For a moment he had forgotten that she had not seen the newest scars to his face, nor the missing appendage. Onyx greeted him and offered him an apology as to which the Jarl shrugged off. He wasn't offended, hadn't been even in his minor confusion previous. “Do not worry Onyx, it's a monstrous sight, I know,” Ragnar played it off with another grin. That was only partially the truth. After all, it wasn't like had a mirror that he could see how he looked. “The Allfather, Odinn, has taken my eye,” And yet for it Ragnar did not feel wiser, nor had he seen any improvement or fortune their way as Odinn had promised him. If anything Stavanger Bay was doing worse than they had been before his eye had been taken.

sorry for the short post and the wait.

Onyx was thankful he was not mad that she had screamed at the sight of his face. He was even grinning. But then her face twisted in confusion. Who is the Allfather, Odinn? Is he another alpha? She asked Sir Ragnar. She was already getting used to his face. It was scary at first, but she could get used to it, besides, he seemed fine, alive, and breathing. She just hoped he was okay. She wouldn't want him to die, but he seemed alive enough, and that was good enough for Onyx.

Ragnar was left with the assumption that others had simply gotten used to the marking of scars that marred the left half of his face so much so that the addition of new ones and the lack of an eye made him appear even more gruesome than he had before and left them with a small fright. Still, Ragnar could not claim to be offended. “The Allfather is a God,” Ragnar corrected her, with a soft frown. It was not that he had expected her to know of Odinn, and he was not insulted that she did not. While he had intended for Stavanger Bay to become the Viking pack he had left behind he had been left with little more than disappointment. He had realized, and quickly, that they were simply too diverse to make it into what he had first envisioned and so while he held fast to his traditions he had let it take it's own way. Hopefully, stepping down did not mean that Thistle would completely disregard his traditions, though he felt confident that she would never disrespect him in such a manner. Fitting specific mortal labels upon Odinn felt wrong to the Northman but aside from softly correcting her he did not say anything more figuring that he would allow her to inquire further if she was curious or not.

The Allfather was a god? Oh. Raven had told Onyx about religions and gods, byt had never pushed her in a particular direction as she didn't really follow one. What does a god do? Are there other gods? She asked Sir Ragnar. Did a god even do anything? Raven had told her different religions had different gods, and some had more than one god. Religions had confused Onyx a lot. Everything about them was strange and confusing, including the idea of a divine being. Her mind just couldn't wrap around that thought.