Without realizing it Bragi was intentionally finding reasons to travel outside of Stavanger Bay’s borders. He claimed easily that he was just exploring, learning the layout of the lands for the Outrider apprenticeship which wasn’t exactly a lie but the underlying reasons pressed against his state of denial with a force akin to Thor striking Mjölnir. Stavanger Bay made him a little uncomfortable though he did well to hide it in the presence of it’s wolves, the looks, the comments of his father being the Jarl. Bragi did not know if there was any truth to these assumptions, wasn’t even really sure his own mother knew, but, instead liked her fabricated story of his father being the God Heimdall. Perhaps his insistence of it was nothing short of childish but he couldn’t bring himself to care because he was a child still. A capable child, certainly, that didn’t really look quite the part as the softness of childhood began to ebb away as if it were stone beneath a chisel. His growth was no longer rapid as it had been but even now he was not full size. Gaining closer to it with each passing month certainly but at the end of the day he was what he was: just a boy.
His no-destination in mind exploring had led him further than the last time, through a carnivorous forest where he did not linger long for the strong scents of urine made it clear the land was claimed, before the land yawned before him in a stretch of grasslands. Heather grasses grew wild and tall here, none of them he recognized though he couldn’t help the small coy smirk that tugged at the corners of his platinum silver lips at the thought that Floki would have had a field day in this particular territory. And would be able to name the grasses and if they had any medical uses to boot. Such words had only seemed to go into one ear and pass out the other proving Bragi’s inability to retain things that, frankly, didn’t interest him. He continued forth, ears lowering to rest at half mast, twitching when a cricket let out a loud chirp noise that was instantly answered by several others. The Viking boy paused wondering if that was their way of signaling to one another to avoid being squashed by still slightly over-sized paws. A rustling noise that sounded much larger than a cricket caused the boy to give another pause, knowing it had not been him that had made the noise to peer up from the ground to catch sight of the ebony canine he had missed earlier with his nose and eyes to the earthen floor.
She wasn’t too far off and bravely the boy altered his course and let out a chuff of greeting as he approached figuring that he was allowed to indulge his own curiosity. Whether she decided to speak with him or ignore him and keep going was her decision.