The woman greeted him with a warm hello and, interestingly enough, an apology that caused the young Rekkr's lips to part with curiosity at the expression though from where he was standing she had no need to apologize to him...and nothing to apologize to him for. Even if she hadn't acknowledged his chuff he would not have been offended if only because they were strangers, though he was undeniably glad that she had acknowledged his presence. TheHeathenPrince offered her a soft smile in return of her own, noting that she had a pretty smile and cut quite an elegant and regal figure, and then felt weird for thinking that about his maybe step mother. Of course there was always the chance that she wasn't what he suspected but it was clear she meant something to Ragnar because his scent was all over her, easy to distinguish to Týr because it was as familiar as his own scent. “Hello,” Týr returned with a voice that carried his soft accent, not as distinguished as Ragnar's own.
For a short while Týr was content to let the silence fester, taking the time to contemplate the least offensive and intruding way to inquire about her identity and connection to his father. “I am Týr,” He introduced himself leaving off the affectionate nickname that he had felt he had long since grown out of. He might have been a teenager but 'boy' was failing in it's continuation of aptness. “I uh, I don't mean to pry but you're from Stavanger Bay, correct? I ...have family there.” It wasn't the most practiced way and in reality he hadn't asked her anything, and even so there was always the consideration that Ragnar would not have told his newest wife of his existence. It was a painful thought but he was the product of a past life — wives, consorts and family that Ragnar had left behind to understandably fulfill Odinn's commands.
a crime so old as the sky and bone