move on through

<style type="text/css">table.ragnar {background: #ffffff url("http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v190/theder/ragnardertable_zpsefab268a.png") no-repeat top center;}</style>

Ragnar watched as the girl took a few steps back, obviously startled by his appearance, and though her startling only lasted but the stretch of a few seconds it reminded him of when he had first came across her and how she had whimpered a name at him in fear. He could not remember the name, strange sounding and as foreign as it had been to the Scandinavian but he remembered the fear she had displayed despite being half conscious and likely, half alive. Ears cupped forth as she spoke, answering his inquiry stating that she felt much better. As Ragnar’s gaze swept over what he could see of her the scarred Northman was inclined to believe her. She looked healthier and was lucid. Ragnar’s silence stretched though his attention did not waver from her as she went on to compliment Nerian. Ragnar did not tell her that his wife, Thistle, would have done a good job as well at healing the girl because it was unnecessary. Nerian had came to the scene that day, not Thistle, Nerian had argued with him, infuriatingly enough, not Thistle. And while that alone should have probably gotten Nerian demoted down a rank the fact that she had and was nursing this girl back to health, demonstrating her skills as a healer was more than enough to offset it. It was hard for Ragnar to take Nerian’s arguing with him personal given that he had flat out rejected her not once but twice and once in the apex of her heat season which had been about the hardest thing he had ever had to do in his life. Even now, the fading scent of her heat season taunted him where it clung and lingered over the rocks her fur and skin had touched. "Nerian is a good woman," He had once called her a good Christian but hadn’t thought of her as such in quite some time. He only continued to call her his ‘Priestess’ as an endearment. She had been a Priestess when he had found her and it was hard to break himself out of the habit of calling her it. "I did not have any doubts that she would take good care of you." Ragnar admitted honestly to the girl. He had doubted that Nerian would be able to heal the girl to this magnitude because she had been bad at the borders but Ragnar was pleasantly surprised to find that he had been wrong. His brow furrowing for a second before the velveteen fur between his muzzle smoothed into something more stoic. More …manageable. "You will and it will not be bad," Ragnar told her confidently reinforcing what Nerian had told her just in case the girl had any doubts. "The King of my Gods, Odinn has only one eye and he is better for it." Of course Ragnar hadn’t told her the whole story…of how Odinn sacrificed it to Yggdrasil and hung himself from one of it’s branches to acquire knowledge. It wasn’t necessary to tell her, he felt and he had been trying to reassure her that it would not slow her down any if she had ever worried about such a thing. "What is your name?" He inquired, wanting something to call her, and offered as an incentive, "I am Ragnar the Jarl or Alpha of this Bay." He much preferred being called Jarl over Alpha but that was his own preference. "There are some things we need to talk about," He told her softly drawing a breath during his pause before letting it out slowly. "Now that you are better I need to know if you’d like to stay in Stavanger Bay, and if you do I need to know what skills you can offer us. I expect all of my wolves, young or old, to contribute whatever they can. And I expect fealty and allegiance to me and to the pack out of every wolf who seeks a home here." Ragnar would do anything for his wolves and sometimes his mood suffered for it when he did not get enough sleep but still they were the lifeblood of his pack and he owed it to them to give them everything he had. He thought it was fair that he ask they contribute to the well being of the pack in return.