Stavanger Bay vikings mourn their dead

Ah, we had inner territories written up but they were never added to the pack record, eep. Ok, going to try to pull these from memory though I may get the names wrong, lol.

The woman's response was a silent one, though she offered a nod of her head. Gyda took that as her go ahead. “We will start here. This place had no name before but now it shall be Dalurinn konunga,” The Norse spilled from her lips easily, smoothly as she named the final resting place of Ragnar. “It loosely translates to The Valley Of Kings.” Gyda's words made it sound like she intended to return here, that one day all the great Viking Kings that ruled this bay would join Ragnar. Perhaps they would, and Queens too. Gyda may have looked sweet as honey and docile as a kitten but beneath that charm and beauty she was a fierce as the father that had raised her, and just as ambitious; and little good had came from that with Ragnar. He'd made many enemies with his brutality, yet that was the way of life. The strongest survived and you were either a wolf or a sheep. Peace treaties were useless things to her, and friendships with other packs were loose things. 

Giving it a name gave Gyda some closure though she would reflect upon her grief when she was alone. For now, she tucked it aside as best she could for the sake of her company. She had offered to give a tour of her once home and she would not allow her grief to put a damper upon it. With a gesture of her muzzle in the direction she planned to take Krypton, Gyda led the way pushing into the ash forest. She tried to pull up her mental map of the Bay, trying to determine which inner territory was the closest to their current position. The overgrown tangles and burnt splotches of forest had her recalculating (albeit without the annoying confirmation of a gps) a bit in an effort not to lose her way. Gyda did not reach out to break the silence that had settled between the two women before she shrugged into a familiar clearing. 

“My father called this clearing præll Halda, the slave keep,” Speaking with someone in the common tongue was beginning to become a little easier for the viking queen, offering common translations before she was asked. “Slaves are essential to my culture, my father's own priestess wife had once been his slave. He was not a gentle man but he was not heartless. He had been enraptured by the priestess and by taking her as his slave had saved her from rape and mutilation. He treated her well though she had never seen this place. Before I left my father had only taken two slaves as punishment for trespassing. He could have killed them but he did not. They stayed here for a month, contributing to Stavanger Bay and then he let them go to spread the word that the next trespassers would suffer a fate worse than death at the jaws of the Viking King.” Gyda offered some history and explanation, offering Krypton a glance, unsure of how what was common and accepted in her culture would be taken by someone who was not a Viking.

She was anxious for some kind of reaction, not having known (nor did she want to know) any other type of life aside from the ones the Northmen lived. She was curious, and paused in their journey to pace the clearing, stopping when she was directly across from Krypton allowing for questions, should the other female have any.