a gift from the heavens

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"They are," Ragnar conceded but then a clandestine smirk tugged at the edges of his lips, covert and coy. "But Junior has a couple things going for her. She is older and bigger than them," He started with the most obvious facts first before his voice dropped as if he were about to share a secret with Thistle. "She is a fierce shield maiden in training, though." By skill alone she trumped their younger sons. Ragnar couldn’t help the fierce pride in his voice for a child that was not his (though in his defense none of his children are his by flesh and blood). "Junior has what it takes to be a Viking," Ragnar remarked in a softened voice, unable to deny if asked that he was hoping she did take a semblance of interest in it beyond being a shield maiden. "If her persistence keeps she could become a legendary Shield Maiden someday." "I’m not going to kick her out of the pack or anything," Thistle hadn’t said it but Ragnar had felt that it had been implied (even if it hadn’t he just assumed). "She will stay here until someone comes to claim her or until she gives me something more to work off of than her mother’s name apparently being ‘Hotguy’." Unless Thistle knew a female wolf by the name of Hotguy because Ragnar certainly didn’t. Ragnar couldn’t help the subtle snicker that left him, "You common tongue speakers give your children strange names." The Nord teased Thistle, despite that she was beginning to better pick up on his native tongue given that their children didn’t seem to be giving her much of a choice. At least as far as Ein was concerned because their eldest boy did not seem to enjoy speaking ‘Common’ unless he had no choice. "Even if her family does come looking for her, well, she has a choice. She’s old enough to make a decision like that right? Maybe…she’d want to stay with us." He didn’t hold his breath for it though. Why would she choose strangers over her own family if such a choice was ever presented to her? The only way he could figure in that scenario was if she had a bad home life. "I know I should probably send Verrine or go out personally on an Outrider mission to ask the near by packs if they’re missing a child but…—" But I can’t. He couldn’t bring himself to do it even though he knew, more so from his father instincts than his non-existent moral compass, that it was the right thing to do. He didn’t bother finishing it figuring Thistle had caught on.