Ravensblood Forest run devil run

This thread cracks me up! :D

“New,” Ragnar repeated the word as if it were something foreign he had never heard before, though of course given his fluency in the common tongue this was not true. It was a simple enough word to understand yet, the Viking did not understand. How did one get into Valhalla without being a Viking. She should have known about Valhalla and, essentially Heiðrún from the stories - even if she was a convert Viking she would have been told until they were at least, familiar. Ragnar watched with a contented expression as she lowered her head to lick at Heiðrún’s gift. “Good,” He murmured before his piercing gaze (albeit glassy with drink) settled upon her face. “Eat it,” The Viking encouraged, letting his suspicion send little red flags through his brain though he did not let his suspicion show. “It is insulting to reject a gift from a God. For his docile nature no one wants to be around Heiðrún if he gets insulted.” Ragnar informed her, determined to see how far she would go. Even while drunk Ragnar was nothing if not clever even if it was hard to focus and things were fuzzy. From her general lack of knowledge - and further response that she was a maiden; only shield maidens and warriors went to Valhalla - led him to believe that he was not actually deceased and in Valhalla.

He was probably just wasted.

Her following words were stranger still, and Ragnar swayed - partially in truth and partially in cover of hiding that he was aware that something wasn’t right - and smirked, a slow, tantalizing twist of his lips heavenward. Sacrifice? Babies? No Viking made a habit of sacrificing babes to the Gods. It was true that Ragnar had only made one sacrifice to Odinn during his time here thus far and that it had been a baby cougar - not yet off it’s mothers teat, its mother having been killed by the grizzly that haunted this forest. And then, slowly, as if a light struggling to illuminate began to glow it’s dimness fading as it warmed up, Ragnar began to put the puzzle pieces together in his mind. It was obvious this girl did not know of Valhalla or any of his customs, or even how one got into Valhalla which was a dead giveaway to him at first. The sloppy conclusion he came to was that she must have, somehow, witnessed his sacrifice of the baby cougar to Odinn.

Immediately, he wanted to defend himself, to assure her that the babe would not have lived without it’s mother (and at any rate what was Ragnar supposed to do with a cougar?); that Odinn had been doing it a kindness by giving it a quick death as opposed to a long and suffering one it would have endured. That babe was growing strong in Valhalla under Odinn’s careful and powerful guidance, Ragnar knew.

For a moment Ragnar simply shook his head before his lips parted to speak, “You shouldn’t play coy if you know nothing about what you speak,” He told her simply, his words sluggish but letting her know that he had figured her out. “I’ve met you before on the Ridge’s borders, and I know that you saw my sacrifice but you are wrong.” He told her a little sharper than he had meant too. “Odinn did a kindness to that babe and you know it. It would not have lived without it’s mother, it was still too young to eat meat. By demanding it’s death then and there it was clean - there was no suffering, whereas if I would have let it go it would have had a slow and painful death if it was lucky. That bear might have doubled back and tore it apart which, also, would have been slow and painful.” Ragnar told her meeting her gaze to show that he was serious and not afraid to speak what they both knew.

“And no, neither Odinn demands nor do I sacrifice babes unless, like in that case, there is no other way.” Ragnar told her firmly - or rather as firmly as he could manage.