Sequoia Coast Come speak with me

It was the first time Sköll, at Ragnar’s command, had picked his way west to the land he called Stavanger Bay. According to the platinum Jarl it would be the Ridge’s new home in due time. Thistle had left earlier in the morning and Sköll had silently taken over his part time duty of watching the children when both Loðbrók’s were gone but Ragnar had intruded in a few moments after his wife had departed and told him to head to the Bay to explore and assist in what he could marking the borders. The commands were sharp in their native tongue and Sköll, excited by the prospect of being able to get out of the Ridge, left with a ‘Are You Sure’ glimpse back as the eldest boy, Ein, clamored onto Ragnar, having attempted to conquer the father’s back, peeking at the Tiny Viking as he stood upon the junction between his father’s shoulders, his front paws propped up on the back of Ragnar’s skull as he used his father as a ladder.

The journey took a bit if only because Sköll was busy marveling over the sights that rose to greet him. He would have never made a good Outrider because his inability to comprehend more than a small handful of words in the common tongue and while he enjoyed the ability to stretch his legs he had always been more of a homebody anyway, not liking violence enough to fight and raid (though he’d done it a few times) preferring to be the behind the scenes man and heal the wounds the Berserkers suffered. It was just the natural order of things and Sköll had accepted it easily as the will of the Gods without needing anything more than that to guide him.

Since Ragnar’s ascension to the rank of alpha, tragic as it had been, Sköll had always approached Thistle with submission in his posture and eyes because she was not only his Jarl’s wife, she was also, more or less (at least until he appointed someone to the Beta position) his second in command as the highest ranking wolf in their hierarchy under Ragnar himself. Sköll was the lowest, well except for maybe Hati (whom was a juvenile), Ragnar’s sister whom Sköll was overjoyed to learn had safely made it to the Ridge and to Ragnar though he was too ashamed of himself to actively seek her out despite how badly he wanted too. It was Thistle’s voice that rang out, clearly for him as he neared Stavanger, causing the Tiny Viking to give pause. How had she known he was coming? Silently, he contemplated that maybe she had a little bit of a Seer in her …or Ragnar had told her, either way. Not wanting to waste any of her time he hurried to where her howl had originated from, lowering himself into submission when he approached her, blazing orange eyes adverted as he murmured a respectful “konan mín,” to her as he wondered what she has summoned him for.

Except for maybe a lesson in Old Norse. Ironically, Sköll had became something of her mentor on that particularly subject (as well as the pup's as well) if only, he suspected, because his common tongue was basically non existent and it forced her to quickly pick up on the words or maybe he was just a better teacher than Ragnar.