Neverwinter Forest pride wreaked havoc

“No where specific,” As it had last time, it'd nearly taken him back to Oðinn's Cove ...but he blanched at the last moment like a coward, because Ragnar had been one of their favorite rules beneath his father Eitri and he'd been the one to deal the killing blow to the Viking legend. That smug satisfaction he'd once felt had long since worn off and in the void his single-minded revenge had created in it's wake was just that: a void. He'd taken revenge ...but revenge hadn't brought his memories back. He got wisps, some clearer than others, and sometimes he dreamed but the it was as he'd suspected long before he'd taken to his full name: he would never fully remember. He was cursed to live on the cusp of truth and lies, almost unsure which was which. 

“I would like to know that myself,” He responded honestly because ...he truly had no answer for her. There was nothing here for him, nothing but crumbling remains and false hope. Yet he foolishly clung to it anyway, hoping that eventually he might be able to make good on his promise and herald a good life. A new life. “I doubt she remains in these Wilds and even if she did I can't say if she'd even want to see me.” Because it was confusing ...just as his life was. A jumbled mess that Tezcacoatl feared would never straighten himself out. 

Yet, he survived and kept pushing forward simply because he didn't know what else to do.