Sveið had only accompanied Bragi so far to the Teekon Wilds and when they reached the lands he saw as unexplored, she parted from him claiming that Váli would be furious if she did not return. Bragi had watched his mother part with him with sorrow filled eyes but a brave expression upon his face. They were warriors, he and her. Whether they saw each other once more in this life or not they would, he had no doubt, see each other again in Valhalla. The Viking child was old enough to understand what ramifications of ‘furious’ Sveið spoke of having seen Váli’s ferocious and cruel treatment of his current wife Sif plenty of times. Sveið wasn’t Sif, she was not a princess she was a shield maiden famous to boot and idly as he had watched his mother’s silhouette fade into the distance if she had intended to challenge the current Jarl of Odinn’s Cove in single combat. Regardless, she had brought him here to seek the safety of Váli’s brother, following in the footsteps of several of previous Cove members.
The truth was Sveið hadn’t given him a reason and Bragi had not been selfish enough to ask even though it had burned with the heat of a dying son on his tongue numerous times. He respected her wish to not tell him and he trusted that she knew what she was doing.
The young Berserker-in-training had made his way from there, using the skills that Floki had taught him for identifying edible berries and poisonous ones, pausing to clumsily catch a rabbit. Bragi had taken his time eating it, Caribbean blue eyes scouring the unknown lands around him. They were foreign and yet similar if only because of his association to the North. Odinn would guide him. Any time the nagging of fear or doubt threatened to paralyze him he would remember those words and added silently in his mind now with a solidification that made him certain, As will Heimdall,. His journey had been long and Bragi glimpsed at the golden and dusk colored sky, one eye closed, the other squinting against the sun he knew he had spent the entire day traveling. He knew if he did not find Ragnar soon he would have to dig a little den or find an abandoned fox hole to spend the night in. The thought of sleeping alone in a den was a unwelcome one so he threw himself into his task with determined and unconquerable vigor.
It was with a hopefulness that he happened to draw nearer to borders though knowing next to nothing of these lands or the wolf he was searching for in question aside from what he looked like from his mother and Floki Bragi just had to take a chance and bite the bullet.