There had been a moment, brief, but there nevertheless, that Ragnar had considered leaving Pump to her daydreams - if that was indeed what she had been doing. It was not often he saw her looking so …peaceful. Of course the last time he had truly seen her face to face (not including the day they drove the bear out) it had not been a very joyous occasion for either of them; but Ragnar was over it. He had never been one to hold grudges. His focus was on his wife, their unborn children, his Priestess, and his duties as Warden. He watched Pump as she descended from her heightened perch to sniff at him, and offered a return greeting as simple as the Viking’s had been to her. Ragnar never had been a talkative creature - unless he was telling Thistle about the Cove, or Odinn. Only thing that he was truly passionate about warranted for an endless flow of words. Her sniffing was almost a little too intrusive to the bear-like Viking but Ragnar held still for her in a manner that relayed his obedience.
A chuckle escaped Ragnar’s lips at Pump’s observation, unable to help himself.