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

Gyda opted for contemplative silence and as Gavriel spoke allowed it to wash over her. In truth, she had nothing really to say, at least not without being redundant to herself. Gyda had, for the most part, written Storm off. She failed to trust him still, but that neither here nor there. Until he did something to warrant it: he wasn't her concern. He was Thuringwethil's to babysit and keep after like a pup — although, admittedly, Gyda had to admit she'd much rather have pups to look after then a prisoner that had committed a crime against her pack. She inhaled deeply and let it out for a second, allowing her gaze to traverse his body once more. An idea began to flicker to life within her mind, rooting and taking hold. The Viking Queen was hesitant for a mere second but she had shed the demureness of her youth a very long time ago. She circled him once, slowly, though gave no indication as to why. He was broad and strong and Thuringwethil trusted him, it had seemed to Gyda. Her conditions had been that her children be of Drageda blood: but Gavriel was one better. He was also of Seageda blood as well. Surely, Thuringwethil would not disapprove ...so long as Gyda could garner the male's permission. Gyda only had to figure out how to best phrase this too him. She did not want to scare him off and wanted him to know that he had the choice to decline her.

“Gavriel,” Gyda spoke his name softly, in a thoughtful hum as she came back around to face him. “I have an odd...proposition for you, if you would hear it?”