Sleeping Dragon you're seeing black and blue, so i'll paint you a clear blue sky

“I do not doubt Thuringwethil,” Gyda assured Gavriel. In fact, Gyda trusted the Grounder with her life — just as she had trusted Dragun and the wolves of Odinn's Cove. “In many cases trespassers will killed or made extreme examples of but they were not harbored and fed by us in the Cove,” Gyda informed him with another roll of her shoulders. If she thought Thuringwethil was letting Storm off too easy — and truly it annoyed the Viking Queen greatly how the hybrid hid behind Heda — Gyda would not hesitate to speak up. Or she would punish him herself. “I wished to reclaim a territory called Stavanger Bay south of here along the sea. It is my birthright,” Gyda admitted, though she did not speak to Gavriel that she was glad she allowed Thuringwethil to talk her out of it. Gyda might have continued to allow her sorrow of Ragnar's passing to cloud her judgment and consume her. Without it's constant presence she did not think on it as often as she might have otherwise. In a way, the Dragon had aided in her healing though it was still a slow process. “but Thuringwethil wished for a fresh start, to create our own legacy. Perhaps it was fate that we settled here for this was the place in which we were reunited.” Whether that had anything to do with their settlement or not Gyda couldn't be sure. It seemed practical and before other packs had came in and settled much of the North had been open to them as viable hunting grounds.