Ragnar canted his head towards her, slightly, in a bird-like manner as she confessed that she considered part of the reason she had accepted them was selfish and then spoke that she wasn’t sure if it was a good thing. Ragnar contemplated it in silence, if her being selfish was a bad thing in regards to their Gods. Her …fear — Thistle had not came out and said it, or even really expressed it; merely Ragnar assumed that was what it was — of how her supposed ‘selfishness’ might be perceived by the Gods reminded Ragnar, unbidden and rather unwelcome, of Nerian’s God. How he was strict and apparently unforgiving in the way he unequally lorded himself over those whom that were devout to him. “What is the selfish reason?” Ragnar asked because in what she had spoken to him he could not make out how either could be considered ‘selfish’. They were both good reasons to decide to become devout to the Gods. “It is ok to be selfish, my love. Our Gods understand because they are not so different from us.” He soothed her, finally, in case she had been worrying about it. It seemed a silly thing to Ragnar to worry about but he had grown up with his Gods. He had known them since before he could start hearing.
“Now let me sleep, wife.” He commanded her with only a slight teasing edge, butting his snout against her chin with a chuckle before he laid his head across her forepaws, feeling the exhaustion (and blood loss) weigh him down like a lead stone.
