Horizon Ridge On a rush of angel wings

It is very unexpected but adorable I'm grinning like an idiot right now. I'm pretty sure they can just be mates and that we don't need permission for that (just the pups/breeding stuff) we just need to PM Pump so they can get the official titles and all though they probably won't announce it until after the meeting I guess since this so unexpected, lol.

With Thistle having decided on the river, Ragnar began to take a subconscious lead then assuming that she was unsure of where the River was since she had asked his opinion on the matter and he had suggested it as a starting point for her flower hunting. “There’s a strong undercurrent that’s tricky to navigate,” He warned having no intentions of allowing her to go anywhere near the trick turn in the river that he had discovered and nearly been pulled under on his journey back from Swiftcurrent Creek. It took Ragnar a moment to realize that Thistle was no longer keeping pace with him and when he did notice her absence a glimpse over his shoulder allowed him to see that he was now a good couple of feet ahead of her. Slowly he turned and double backed stopping where there was still distance between them but so that they were facing one another. Her breathing seemed to have taken a more rapid pace and for a moment, quizzical, the Viking wondered if she were perhaps feeling dizzy because of her pregnancy never stopping to consider that it was him and his words that were making her feel that way (nor that it was not necessarily a bad thing).

It didn’t occur to him because he wasn’t a romantic, he wasn’t a gentleman, and he was not in any illusion, shape or form Prince Charming. He wouldn’t even go as far as to fancy himself her knight in shining armor because he wasn’t a gallant knight either. He was a Viking. Dangerous. Cunning. Ruthless. But she knew that. “It was not intended,” He told her honestly. He had not came here to find another wife, neither had he really had any intentions of staying but it seemed that fate and Odinn had other plans for him, even throwing in the seedlings of what was most foreign to the savage Viking. Love, and while it was not fully blossomed and at the point not on the table (for he was at least honest with her) it was rooting within him deeply, snagging in his brain and black heart like fish hooks. Her question was, of course, expected for not but weeks earlier he had confessed his treatment of his previous wife to her which had led to them fighting about it, and yet here he was asking her to brave the title and be his, nevertheless. He wanted to tell her that he wouldn’t, that things felt vastly different from any other time he had “proposed” but because he was still so unsure (and albeit confused) he could not. “If I do then you have mine and Odinn’s permission to take my life,” So long as she didn’t curse him from going to Valhalla (which was the worst thing anyone anywhere could ever do, ever). As far as Ragnar was concerned it was a fair deal.

She told him that she did not love him - which was expected he had no illusions of anything of the sort. “I do not expect you to love me, I cannot stand the thought of someone else calling you theirs. Not now, not ever,” Perhaps it was his own jealous tendencies, coupled with the fact that she was always haunting him and their elusive night shared in the tangent of magic moonlight and darkened shadows. “Then don’t forget me,” The Viking’s soft voice was husky, breathless as he lurched forth to brush his muzzle against hers, gliding his tongue across her jaw line in a sultry kiss, teeth raking through the warm fur of her cheek as his muzzle found her ear which he nibbled teasingly. “Be my wife.” He breathed in her ear, unable to help the sexy sultry smirk that was tugging once more at his lips.