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It was a week after Ragnar’s return from Blacktail Deer Plateau and only a few days had past since he had finally rid himself of the delirium fever he had received, as far as he believed from the God Odinn leaving behind a small sliver of himself within Ragnar during the process in which Thistle had prayed to Freyja and Frigg and Odinn had accepted her sacrifices and prayers as initiation into their people making her a true Viking. His strength had returned and never one to sit idle he broke from Thistle’s side before the sun rose in the cooling morning, hunting four rabbits for her, though if she ate them all in one shot or stretched them out gradually (he could not always part from the borders to bring her lunch) Ragnar did not know. He laid them gingerly just inside the mouth of the den, hidden from the eyes of the scavengers that flew overhead or hungry foxes deigned to steal what did not belong to them, but not close enough to disturb his slumber wife.
It felt good to get back into his daily routines, though he would have to break them, once more, hopefully before Thistle gave birth to seek out his half brother, Dagrún, who had come to the Ridge in search of him while he had been away. Little did Ragnar know, but was about to find out that Dagrún was not the only one from the Cove to arrive while he was on his trip. Pump’s scent was heavy on this particular stretch of the borders though likely it had been to pick up what had slacked in his brief absence that he was sure she was likely wondering about. Another scent, familiar though it was that joined with Pump’s scent suddenly and Ragnar paused, muscles freezing beneath his iced silver coat as he bent his head low to investigate it further.
He knew that scent.
It was her.
Of course it was her.
Many questions swam around the Viking’s mind though all, as it currently stood, went unanswered without her before him to respond. Black, leathery nostrils flared as he inhaled the scents again, the scent of Sif, Váli, of the Cove and her scent unique to her. Of fire and woman and lingering faintly of him. How had she found him here, so far from the Cove? Why had his Priestess sought him out in these lands? What did her presence here mean? His patrol left unfinished he followed her scent, faint though it was until it disappeared all together and he could track her no more. He summoned her then, calling Nerian to him so she might …enlighten him and make some sense of the confusion that was his curiosity.