Altar of Twilight bad company until the day i die

She gave him a name, unlike any that he'd heard before and one that he made no attempts to repeat. It was unlikely that he'd be able to say it without butchering it, anyway, and already his mind was going through the names of the Valkyries in his head to find one that might match her. Alvitr was the partial name of a Valkyrie, but it also started with an “A” as did this Attica's name and held one meaning of strange creature. There was nothing particularly strange about her, aside from her fur color to him but rather than find it strange he found it aesthetically pleasing. Yes, she would make a nice addition to his slave wives, though he understood that she would not go willingly. Willing didn't hold half the fun of the chase, of hunting them down and claiming them. He enjoyed the spirit of fight — but of course he did. He was a warrior, he got off on the high of battle.

“Rig,” He replied simply, not yet willing to give her his true name. For now, a moniker of the god Heimdall would do, and as it stood was his favored moniker to go with. Heimdall was a wanderer, too. The fact that they were so close to her pack would pose something of a problem, Sigtýr considered, but he was a patient man. Though he would prefer not to let her escape his grasp and run back to them, for this would make it all that much harder, it would be a chase unlike any he'd known before. “I bet my wives would fawn all over you,” Especially if he managed to bring her home to them. Conveniently, he left out the part of 'slaves' but that was neither here nor there at the moment.

Tarnished golden gaze swept over her again and he let out a low murmur in his guttural tongue, a soft word one that he did not elaborate upon. “What are you doing out here by yourself?” He inquired, wondering what kind of fools would let such a little beauty wander by herself in the dark? Especially where a lecherous Berserker like himself might find them ripe for their taking?