The morning was fair, not too hot but warm enough that it was comfortable, the green of the grasses covered with shimmering droplets of dew as Týr drew further North. He had decided on a whim to head North, towards Swiftcurrent Creek after his talk with Thistle Cloud. Having grown up without any recollection of his mother it was strange to think of the fawn colored wife of his father as a step mother. To go from having no mother to suddenly having a step mother was quite a change and not one that he wanted to rush. She was his step mother by marriage and that was automatic but the relationship ... Týr did not want to rush that. He wanted to get to know Thistle Cloud better before he could actually refer to her as 'mother'. For reasons Týr could not place he had this distinct and gut feeling that considering Thistle as his 'mother' was like cheating upon his biological mother who was surely watching him from Valhalla. The depth of that feeling, of the knowledge that there was more to him and to his life then he was aware of was unshakable.
The assertion that he was a Viking, having nothing to disprove Ragnar and Floki's story spun it to be simply that he did not wish to invoke Frigg's wrath upon himself. It lingered in his heart still, even though he worked to rationalize to himself that Ragnar had married Thistle and he couldn't really replace something he had never truly had. If his biological mother had truly died giving birth to him surely she wouldn't want him to not look at Thistle in that way just because of irrational feelings of guilt that he couldn't, really, explain.
His pace was casual as he moved having decided not to stop at Swiftcurrent Creek unsure if Fox would even accept him back (unaware that she was no longer leading Swiftcurrent); he could have just as easily inquired if Stavanger Bay had an open space for him but despite Thistle Cloud's assurance that Ragnar hadn't forgotten him Týr wasn't so sure there was a place for him in Ragnar's new life. So instead of making any sort of decision the young Rekkr wandered. Living like a vagabond wasn't horrible at least during the summer months when he did not need to seek the body heat of another and when hunting was good; and if there was anything to take from his indecision it was that wandering allowed him to explore the free territories of Teekon Wilds at his own leisure.
a crime so old as the sky and bone