There was a brief moment, as eyes of Caribbean eyes watched Julooke shake her head, that perhaps he was giving her too much detail. Possibly more than was needed. Admittedly, since he wasn’t embarrassed by it his mind didn’t have a ‘Stop Speaking Ragnar’ warning button to be pressed.
Ragnar nodded when she said that she would speak with Verrine about it, but spoke nothing more about the matter figuring there was nothing left to say. His well wishes had been given, his permission to breed had been given for the year if they chose to take it, and that was about it, as far as he was concerned. It reminded him that a new rendezvous den would need to be dug to fit his rapidly growing children as well as Thistle and him, but also a birthing den, too, for Thistle in the future, or any couple who would need it. There was much to do but on the priority list getting them to Stavanger Bay to stay was at the top of it. Dens could be dug once they were settled in and right now he needed to focus upon what Julooke and him were doing currently: claiming it. There would be plenty of time for settling in after the fact. The Viking had remained silent as they worked on, content and comfortable with it as the mud streak she had left on him began to dry and harden against the tendrils of fur it caked.