Ravensblood Forest I'll take your breath away

Sköll watched as she physically attempted to soothe him by the polite in way her ears had laid back upon her skull, reading what he thought to be confusion on her face glad that at least as far as physical gestures were concerned there was no language barrier. Of course, realizing that he had confused her only made Sköll feel culpable for more or less trying to sneak away. It hadn’t been a very chivalrous thing to do and left him feeling rather like some kind of fiend; beyond that it made him feel cowardly for letting his inability to speak their common tongue debilitate him. As if it were some kind of living beast that had jumped to reality from his nightmares. He was a Viking and if he did not even fear death why did he let his inability to effectively communicate verbally freeze him in terror. It was pathetic to the Tiny Viking.

The woman spoke to him again, voicing a question known only by Sköll because of the inquisitive tone she spoke in. Though his assumed distressed companion had intentionally used smaller words in the hopes he might understand them he picked out two words ‘you’ to mean him and ‘from’ to mean as Ragnar had explained it used his origins, wondering why the common tongue used so many words to say what they wanted. “From,” Sköll repeated the word, mouthing it to himself once, twice, and a third time as he shifted his weight awkwardly trying to shift through the very small and pitiful hand full of words in the common tongue he had been able to learn from Ragnar. “I am from —” His words were spoken slowly, communicating that he wasn’t sure that they were correct. “— norður …” Frustration created the lines of his face as he tried to recall the common tongue word for it knowing that it was in a small way, similar. “nor…noorrdd…nor-tur…north,” He paused then, brow furrowed from his painful attempts to remember the exact word. “From north?” He asked, meekly hoping that he had gotten it right.