stavanger bay

*Ragnar* · (This post was last modified: June 19, 2014, 06:16 PM by Ragnar.)

Creation of a new territory, yay! *is super excited to get this ball rolling* I had something like this in mind where the forest is nestled neatly between either side (kind of like how the Northstar Vale is nestled between Porcupine Ridge, Sheepeater Cliff, and the Sunspire) :-) and no need to match the length of this. :p

His dreams the night previous were horrific …like the claws of a nightmarish beast tearing into Ragnar’s heart, constantly keeping the wounds of Pump’s death — so fresh — wide and gaping, the weight of it, the knowledge of the bear of which was no longer benevolent parading around Horizon Ridge and the ever present stress of Wheeling Gull Isle’s presence rose into a shapeless abyss of smoke that felt as if it were suffocating him as he tossed and turned, restless. Blood. Not the first time Ragnar had ever seen another’s lifeblood pooled at his paws, not the first death he had ever witnessed and yet it hit him hard though the Viking knew why. He had developed a platonic affection for Pump, respected her deeply as a fellow leader, as a woman. And the Gods had seen fit to rip her from him, from them.

Why do the Gods give with one hand, and take with the other?

Fighting the bear was not an option to Ragnar …he would not needlessly risk the lives of more wolves on a vengeance bent beast that had graduated from disrupting and stealing from their food caches to killing them. The Ridge was no longer a safe haven for them…if, following the tragic events that had happened there since his arrival into their ranks, it had ever truly been. The territory felt dark to the Viking and with the encroaching presence of their newest neighbors he had a decision to make. Or rather, it had already been made for him he simply had to see it through and bring the Ridge wolves to safety. He was their sole leader now and their lives fell upon his shoulders to protect with a new weight than it ever had as his title as Head Warden.

When Ragnar had set out the morning, letting Thistle, the Gamma (his wife) and second highest in command in charge trusting her to do what would need to be done if something happened in his absence either to him or the pack, he had set out with the intention of surveying the territories along the Coast with the intent of looking for a new home. A place away from other packs, where prey was bountiful, where they would be safe and could prosper without the impending loom of a territory war or a murdering bear. He wanted to lead them very far away but his children had been born in these Wilds, and also he knew the journey would be very taxing and tiring on them even though he assumed Thistle, Julooke (or whomever else wanted to share the burden) could carry them when they grew tired. The Rite of Passage needed to be performed but at the same time Ragnar felt that the Gods would understand the sheer importance of this task…or he would perform a quick one in private, behind the scenes to fudge through, to sate the Gods until an official ritual could be properly performed.

At first Ragnar had began heading in the direction of Ravensblood Forest only to pause when Huginn or Munnin (it was hard to tell the ravens apart) lighted down a few feet in front of Ragnar as if barring his path. Until it turned it’s head and let out a shrill cry showing Ragnar that it was missing an eye. To anyone else this was pure coincidence. It was obvious it had been plucked out in a vicious scuffle with another bird but to Ragnar he saw it as Odinn, as the All-Father in the flesh of one of his most sacred animals and without hesitation when it took flight in a totally different direction, Ragnar followed obediently. It led him further down the Coast, farther than he suspected any wolves had been in some time, to a stretch of shore and free lands he hadn’t been before.

There was a craggy cliff that rose up in the quickly diminishing distance that stretched past the shore and into the sea itself, the rock as the raven and wolf approached worn smooth by the ebbing and flowing of the salty tide over the vast stretch of years. There was an arching curve in the middle of it on the beach that the raven led the Viking through, ears alert, nose twitching as he dissected the scents smelling nothing but wild lands and sea. Through the archway led to a long curve of shore, the other side blocked off by a second cliff, and as he turned his eyes opposite the sea there was a give of tall grasses and flowered shrubbry, a small slope that as he climbed gave way quickly to an forest, full of tall ash trees and cedars, hickories, the occasional pine. Some of the trees closest to the sands of the shore were bleached bone white from the salt, others still holding their original colors against the salty brine. The forest was ancient, it was easy to tell, and Ragnar followed the Odinn raven through it’s winding paths, catching the scents of elk and deer and even heard the call of a quail in the distance. It seemed to attract their prey with the air of safety the bay and it’s accompanying forest provided, nestled, hidden away by the cliffs that rose to conceal it.

The Odinn raven let out another shrill cry, eccentric songs of native birds answering it and Ragnar glimpsed up on the branch of an ash tree where the Odinn raven had landed staring down at him with a beady eye in a manner that Ragnar would have called expectant. He looked to the east for a moment, studied the towering Silvertip Mountain in the distance seen even over the rise of the cliff. This forest held many mysteries the Viking sensed and shrugged past the last bit of trees studying the chasm between the cliffs which had once, obviously, a very long time ago had been connected, at the stretch of Teekon Wilds that met him, glimpsing what he thought might be Neverwinter Forest in the horizon. “This is where you want us to go, Odinn?” Ragnar glimpsed at the bird who let out a cry, softer this time, that the Viking took to be a confirmation. “Thank you, All-Father.” It would do quite nicely for the Ridge wolves.