Neverwinter Forest lunara

Brynhildr could not take being continuously cooped up within the borders of Stavanger Bay; finding it to be ...boring. Aside from antagonizing Thistle, her supposed father's widow — though Brynhildr felt doubts that the Ragnar Thistle spoke of and the man that had sired her were two different men — without her brothers to speak with she felt the pressing restlessness like a weight upon her chest. Even Unnr had allowed her to get out, albeit it was not without the escort of one of her brothers. Thistle could not hold Brynhildr the same way the valkyrja's mother could and with no sign of her brothers in weeks Brynhildr did not wait for an escort, nor did she require one. She was able to handle herself well enough and out from under Unnr's strict rules and keen eye that was never strayed too far from her queen daughter, Brynhildr felt free; and she desired to utilize her new freedom to learn what she had always wanted to. Ragnar's death meant to the young queen that there was no one there to teach her how to be a shieldmaiden, though her brothers could certainly do it they too were absent though likely they'd been delayed by their conquests.  Brynhildr couldn't help but feel slighted by this, angry that they'd left her out but she could not fault them for it. Unnr had made it clear she was to be protected not allowed to romp around and be a true Viking in all it was worth. Unnr had wanted a Queen for a daughter, not a shieldmaiden; and so Brynhildr had given her what she had wanted.

Except: she wasn't a Queen. She wasn't even a Princess in these Wilds. The legend of her father held no bearing here, she assumed. A soft snort of contempt left the valkyrja as the tall, sylphlike woman moved easily through the trees of Neverwinter Forest her destination unknown in the early cusp of the warm morning — so long as it carried her far away from Stavanger Bay for the day.