Horizon Ridge On a rush of angel wings

Mine definitely do, they always have. :3

It was inherently true, a fact that he acknowledged as the way he would more than likely find himself in the grand hall of Valhalla if he strayed to find pleasure with another woman, that she could kill him with supple grace and ease. The silent death of poison. No one would be of the wiser and it would avoid the mess of his lifeblood spilling from his body, in fact it might even be a painless death. There was very little doubt in Ragnar’s mind that she would stick to her word, and he had given her permission knowing that she would do it if he strayed. Death in and of itself wasn’t a deterrent if only because he didn’t fear it. In a way, the Viking and his ilk looked forward to it. It was a celebration not a mourning. But there was Odinn’s promise deep in the back of his mind, never fading and ever present, that he would not die until he was an elderly man and if the Allfather’s promise held true that was a long time from now. He was still young at three years of age - still had a long life to live yet.

Ragnar felt Thistle shiver beneath his touch, feeling the touch of her muzzle as it buried into the fur of his neck and suppressed his own shudder of the sensual moment and touches. The Viking felt her nip - harder than he had nipped at her’s - at his scarred ear, the sensation of pain coming across as sickening pleasure instead with his nerves being messed up in his scars causing him to rumble his pleasure into the crook of her neck so she might hear it as he put it a gruff sound. “Spoken like a true shield maiden.” The Viking grinned at his new víf after she nipped at this shoulder and glided past him in a manner he could only describe as elegant before he smirked and followed after her, determined not to be the one to be left behind this time.