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| She stopped when his voice called out to her, unknowing of her name or that, even, they had once been packmates. It was probably a fluke on his part, as Head Warden, regardless of she had came and went before his promotion to Beta he should have made it his business to at least get acquainted with every wolf in the pack. For a moment as he stopped and stared at her, Ragnar half expected her to ignore him and keep going. He assumed a dominate posture, expressing his rank as Jarl so that there was no question of who he was to this pack. The display was probably excessive but considering he had just dealt with trespassers a few days earlier, of which he had not forgotten, he was bound to be a little harsher at the borders than he normally would have been. The woman, despite Ragnar’s expectation, turned to face him, her tail held low in submission he saw and in accordance relaxed his assertive stance slightly.
He struggled with her own accent, thick as it was, just as he had with Ollie, brow furrowing as he attempted to piece together the accented English (and had a brief moment where he wondered if it was hard for others to understand him like that). Common tongue as his secondary and learned afterwards language had it’s own lines of cons. The important part of what she said, however, he understood (with a little difficulty) and was about to determine that she was looking for Horizon Ridge but they were no more. It wasn’t, necessarily true. Stavanger Bay was the survivors of the Ridge because Ragnar couldn’t entirely claim that Stavanger Bay was Horizon Ridge because they weren’t. Not really. He had began to implement more of his culture’s ways into how he ran the pack though he kept his religion to a minimum and non-mandatory with his subordinates in mind. Just because he was the Jarl didn’t mean he was going to forsake his beliefs. He hadn’t forsaken his Gods or beliefs when he had been nothing but another subordinate in the Ridge and he wasn’t about to do it now. His subordinates were welcome to attend things that revolved around his religion, or enjoy the festivities without believing, he didn’t mind and neither did his Gods. In truth, the religious aspects were for his and his children’s benefit who he was raising to his beliefs.
"The wolves of this pack are survivors of the Ridge, we started over with a clean slate here, pushed into taking action by the intrusion of a pack called Wheeling Gull Isle on our doorstep and the murder of Pump," Ragnar informed her, falling silent as she inquired if he knew a Thistle Cloud. Thistle was his Dröttning, his Queen though she held no official title of it in the pack hierarchy. She was everything to him that Frigg, Queen of the Valkyries was to Odinn. It was a silly question to him but he understood that if she didn’t know he was her husband than it was understandable. "Thistle Cloud is my wife," Ragnar told her stoically, surveying her again. "Why are you looking for her?" He was curious, if nothing else. |