Bearclaw Valley return

Wardruna had noticed Sif’s prolonged absence — it was hard not to notice …but his wives were free to travel. They did not have to linger by his side twenty four seven and though he worried it was not about whether she would return or not. Wardruna assumed that Sif would always return because she had yet to give him any reason to doubt it. Wardruna is licking his proverbial wounds from his failed hunt and ignores the rumble of hunger in his belly when Sif’s call rises in the air from him. He takes a few seconds to glare a little longer at the hole in the earth that the fox had escape down into. It yelled at him and he let out a low snarl, snapping his teeth before he turns away sharply, letting his annoyance and embarrassment manifest itself in precise and brisk movements as he made his way to his wife’s call.

It did not take long before her scent becomes stronger, mingled with several foreign scents. As she comes into his view his working eye looks her over though his relief as it begins to bubble in his chest fizzles out and evaporates like a water droplet upon a hot stone. “Sif,” Wardruna greets her, feeling anger boil over in the place of relief as he notes the half healed gouge upon the side of her neck. Who dared …! Who dared to hurt her? “þú ert meiddur,” He croons as he draws nearer to her, seeking to press his nose gently against her cheek in an affectionate gesture. “hver hefur gert þetta?” Wardruna inquires in his Northern tongue, so ready to exact revenge and go to battle for her.