Though Ragnar could not efficiently see Thistle’s face with clarity given the sudden collision of exhaustion and the fog that writhed around them, between them even as they stood side to side, he could hear the worry in her voice. Worry for him. It was as if, when Odinn had released Ragnar from his possession the energy had been entirely sapped from the iced Viking leaving him with the desire to simply slumber. Again, his body felt heavy though this time it was sluggish not because of Odinn’s presence but because he desired sleep.
The graze of Thistle’s tongue against his face was soothing and the Viking hummed with tuneless, half-hearted pleasure at the feel but it was nothing but a weakened echo because that was exactly what Ragnar felt like in that moment: an echo of himself. He took a step forward and then another, not even having to remotely attempt to keep pace with her because her pace seemed to be the only pace he could make his exhausted body move at and even then it was barely. He shivered against her though he was far from cold, wondering if another delirium fever was in his immediate future. Though Thistle was well adept at dealing with his delirium fevers Ragnar wished, with a suddenness that surprised him, for Floki. Floki knew things about their Gods that few others did and maybe the madman would have been able to offer Ragnar insight on what the Allfather’s possession had meant. Was it a blessing …or a curse? The fog made the air feel heavy to Ragnar, making him feel even hotter beneath the platinum silver silk of his fur. If he could have ripped it all out without entirely alarming Thistle he might very well have.
He did not want her to be clued in on how much Odinn’s possession (though he doubted she was even aware he had been possessed by the Allfather) had taken out of him; though there were those that did not believe that would claim he was simply ill - precursor effects of the delirium fever that was just a side effect of the drugged mushrooms. Admittedly, Ragnar had taken to collecting them in a small, private cache away from prying eyes and the knowledge of his wife and though they had not been consumed the spores of the mushroom had gotten into his system from carrying them in his mouth even briefly; but Ragnar didn’t care what any non believer would say because today he saw his Gods, had literally felt Odinn enter, control, and leave his body and there was no amount of the Berserker mushrooms that would have “caused” him to vividly see and feel all of that.
Ragnar was grateful that Thistle was as pregnant as she was, looking forward with more anticipation than he should have been to the breaks she would need to take on their short journey back to Horizon Ridge.