Moonspear Lionhearted

"He would have liked you." This little statement meant a lot to Wildfire. She didn't know Thistle well, nor had she ever met Ragnar, but they were sort of legendary in a way. She had heard many stories from Charon and Floki about their rule of the bay. Wildfire knew what a shield maiden was and mentally protested, though she only smiled outwardly, flattered, unaware of the comparison being drawn between her and (possibly) her murderous half-sister.

When Thistle said, "...perhaps more?" the young woman blushed a little. She would never deny her chemistry with Floki, nor was she usually particularly shy about it, yet hearing his mother point it out was a bit more flustering than someone else. Did Thistle approve? She had said her late husband would have liked her but that didn't mean either one of them would give her their blessing when it came to their son. Wildfire's insides twitched nervously, though she took it as reassuring when Thistle drew a comparison between her age and the age she herself had been when courting the boy's father.

"Perhaps," she replied simply, lips curving, glancing down at her little red paws before dragging her amber eyes back to the mountain goats. Her lips parted now as she realized they had begun to move away, out of sight. So much for observation. Although Wildfire didn't regret the trade-off at all. She was happy for this opportunity to better acquaint with Floki's mother.