Ragnar was a seasoned journey man though he could hardly call the journeys he had taken as out-riding. When he had explored it had been with the intention of raiding a pack when they came across one, but it had been exploration nevertheless. It had been fun, in a sense, to take a handful of wolves across lands in search of a pack that had not yet heard of them and did not expect them to come in and steal what they thought the Cove needed, to travel and see new things. Despite his versatile ability to travel he had, before he left Odinn’s Cove to come to Horizon Ridge, never actually left his birth pack. He had intended to stay there until his dying day, even, until Odinn commanded different of him.
At her question about the sacrificing Ragnar’s left, scarred ear twitched at the same time as his lips. It was a wry twitch though as if he were about to explain something unpleasant to her and, likely, he was. He had not mentioned what he had to sacrifice, either. Prey mostly, but a wolf was needed too. If he had to he had already deduced he would make that scarification in secret, some place secluded and private. To not sacrifice a wolf, which was always sacrificed when the Cove did it, felt like he was cheating the Gods and the last thing Ragnar wanted was their ire upon his head, or by association the heads of his wolves or his children.
He looked away from the lake then as he watched her distorted reflection fade from it and followed after her, giving her an encouraging nod when he saw her peer behind her shoulder to see, he assumed, if he was following.