Porcupine Ridge i've given up

Charon did not even know if the blood he tasted was Dante's -- but it'd been days, had it not? -- or his own that he had managed to clean off somehow. Or worse. Maybe that is why the Valkyrie had come to take her. She asked if he thought he had someplace to go, and he chortled, which resulted in a couple of painful coughs. Charon's upper body moved from left to right, wobbling on unsteady legs, as he tried to keep his balance.

"Valhalla, is it not, that dead warriors go to? Did Ragnar send you?" He knew her from somewhere. He knew he had to know her. But where from? He had not been to Valhalla before.

Charon turned his head to try and clean his shoulder and back again, something he'd reflexively and instintively done much the past few days, but he could not reach and to make matters worse, toppled over onto the ground again because it made him lose his balance.