Sleeping Dragon tell me of you

Gyda offered Lucani an appreciative nod when the woman spoke that it would her pleasure to do all that she could for the Dragon. Gyda did not abide wolves who did not give back at the very least what any wolf was expected to: hunt and patrol. The extra knowledge was a bonus, yes, but it was these that Gyda valued more than any other. The more diverse their wolves were with their trades the better the shield-maiden felt they would function. She had always been fascinated by the knowledge that others held and brought with them on their travels — perhaps it was this fascination that had bid her to leave Ragnar and her mother to go with Nerian. It had, in part, to protect the terrified and pregnant second wife of Ragnar, because Nerian had needed Gyda in a way that her brothers, mother and Ragnar had not; but also because there was an enigma around the priestess and her strange ways and her strange god that had drawn the shield-maiden in. She did not seek knowledge as Ragnar had: with the ferociousness of a man who wanted everything, for she was not a man nor did she desire everything.

Lucani offered that she was a healer, and the viking queen's icy depths warmed with the shimmer of warmth that surrounded her pupils as she processed those words. It was no secret that Gyda held the trade in a high esteem: she, at one point in her life, had desired nothing more than to be a healer just as her own mother had been. Those desires had altered over time, shuffled away by her desire to be a force of nature on the battle field: like the legendary valkyries. Yet, the trade reminded her much of her mother. “My mother is a healer,” This knowledge was errant, and theoretically unimportant, but Gyda felt deigned to share it all the same. “I hold the trade in very high esteem,” She offered with a fond smile. She barely knew the older woman before her and yet Gyda liked her already.

“How far does your knowledge extend? Does it ...what do you know of expecting children? Of bringing them into the world?” It was an absent question, shown by the slight bite of Gyda's bottom lip, that held no reason (yet) but Gyda was innately curious and interested in Lucani's response all the same.