There was a swell of longing within Bragi’s chest cavity that as he took in the stretch of wild grasses, brought to the surface by the simple though rational consideration that Floki would be resolutely giddy in this particular stretch of flatlands. The trickster had always been a little strange and while Bragi had never found it off putting the young rekkr understood how it could have been to others who didn’t, necessarily understand him. He missed Odinn’s Cove, Bragi realized with the same helplessness that someone missed a deceased loved one. He could not go back, would never disobey Sveið so directly despite that her behavior had made him uneasy on their journey to these Wilds. She had something planned, of that he had never had any semblance of a doubt; abruptly Bragi shut off those thoughts not wanting to examine too closely what he expected she had intended to do and the potential result of it.
He wasn’t ready to come to terms with that any more than he was ready to consider Ragnar his father. Both were untouchable subjects, as forbidden as Odinn’s throne was to anyone but the All-Father himself and on occasion his wife, Frigg.
The woman he had chuffed too approached, and surprised though he had made the initial move, Bragi had stopped his own approach allowing her to come to him. Her green gaze was fixed upon him, he saw, her eyes almost a pretty contrast to the darkness of her jet black coat. It was only as she drew nearer that he noticed the splattering of silver that broke the solidity of ebony. Bragi failed to notice her silver toes if only because he wasn’t looking down at her toes. Instead, he kept glimpsing at her eyes, stuck with the resolution that he found them almost captivating in their chartreuse green coloration, coming from a world where there was no shortage of wolves with blue eyes of all hues. It was a nice change of pace, Bragi decided mentally, for even Ragnar’s wife had had blue eyes.
Bragi responded to her posture with neutrality. He wasn’t going to submit to a wolf he didn’t even know but was not so proud or foolish to think himself as anything close to dominant. Not out here, at least. Not in neutral lands where pack and rank meant next to nothing. “Hello,” He spoke to her after a moment, boyish voice soft and accented though he, himself did not hear it having been desensitized to it.