Ragnar, as he sat like a scarred, impassive and stoic stone in the shadow and shades of the trees lining the Sea Lion Shore back a ways from the ocean, wondered how many times Pump and him would disagree on something before the tension became too high, too palpable. The more times Ragnar was left with the remembrance that he had no real pull in Horizon Ridge he was left feeling more frustrated and angrier than he had been previously. The whole situation with the Isle had him beyond irritated, and horrendously territorial and he desired that something be done about it before the situation became something uncontained and Pump disagreed with him on the grounds that they had yet to encroach on hunting grounds or cause any trouble for the Ridge wolves. That was a convenient answer; peaceful when Ragnar wanted to be anything but peaceful. He wanted to watch them struggle to live for their idiocy, for the eventual encroaching on their hunting grounds. It was a relief, almost, to Ragnar who had been afraid that he had been becoming ‘tame’ in these posh lands. He was still every bit the savage he had been since birth and no amount of ball and chain would ever change that. His blatant disregard for the Isle packs’ lives, the fantasy that while his children ate like Kings and they starved on their secluded Isle made him smirk with the idea of twisted justice proved as much.
He let Pump have her peaceful ways because he respected her but respect would only get her so far. In truth, Ragnar felt disappointment in her. He had thought she was like him and yet every time she shot him down, so to speak, he was left with the facing realization that they were not so alike as he had first thought.
Movement caught his eye and reeled back in his wandering attention, icy, Caribbean blue eyes zeroing in on the girl with the sharpness of a predator. Black, leathery nostrils flared as he inhaled her scent carried to him on the nearly constant breeze of the ocean. She smelled like saltwater and faintly where it had not washed away of Swiftcurrent Creek. For the second time in a week Ragnar found himself in the indirect presence of a Creek wolf very far from home. It was enough to stoke the fires of his curiosity and as the Viking approached her he let out a bark of subdued greeting, to alert her to his presence.