Redtail Rise You came home, but do i really care?

Mercury did not know that Gunnar felt betrayed by his denunciation of everything that was Ragnar's; and wouldn't have if because it had been Mercury's choice. He had never wanted to be a Viking, despite that he had only ever spoken Norse at first. It was more or less his native tongue and no matter how much of Ragnar's influence Mercury tried to erase, he could not erase everything. Mercury's ears slicked back to his skull at Gunnar's hollow laugh, though it was not the mirthless sound that caused Mercury's heart to fall to his stomach, but his words. That Gyda had never returned. A small whine simpered from the DiSarinno's lips at the consideration that something might have happened to the Viking Princess. He turned his head away from his brother, anger welling in the place of despair over his sister, the wound canted towards the sun so that Gunnar might admire his handiwork. “You talk about me and Gyda, but you're not in Stavanger Bay now, are you? We have all made our choices and not one of them is better than the other,” They were adults and better than this. “Gyda was supposed to return. She was heading back to Stavanger Bay when I found her,” He had found her. He had went after her when she went missing. Something he had seen no one else bother to do.

“Something must have happened to her,” He felt as if someone had stabbed him in the lungs, for that was the only conclusion he could come to: a grim one; and if he was right then it was his fault. His fault for not seeing her back home. She had insisted she could handle herself, and he had listened to her, choosing not to push the issue. “Your sister might be dead and all you can do is call her self centered? I don't remember you being such a prick, Tveir.” Once upon a time it would have upset Gunnar to think such a thing, but Mercury realized that he did not know the yearling that stood before him. In all fairness, Gunnar did not know Mercury, either. They had changed, drastically from the last time they had seen one another, for better or worse.

Hearing that Ragnar was dead came as a shock, one of icy cold water, because in some semblance Mercury did care. “I have always cared, Gunnar, I'm angry with them because I have a right to be. They lied to us! But it doesn't make me heartless.” No matter what Gunnar currently thought. “Did I ever claim that I wanted him dead? No. I didn't think anything could kill him.” Ragnar had always been immortal to him, something surreal and terrifying, too confident, intimidating and cunning to be claimed by death. Yet, Odin and his Valkyries had claimed him, taken him to Valhalla against Mercury's presumptions of Ragnar Lodbrok. “How is mother? How is she...” taking it; but Mercury couldn't make himself finish it. Maybe Gunnar didn't even know himself.