Thistle remained quiet on the subject of him taking another slave. It rose Ragnar's suspicion slightly he let it go if only because they needed to show a united front in the face of strangers. It occurred to him that perhaps Thistle had something of a similar thought, unless she truly didn't care if he took another slave. It was true that this circumstance was different from when he had taken Nerian from her sister Priestesses. He was not raiding and this time...this time it was a punishment for daring to tell him his borders were pungent enough with the stench of urine despite that he knew they were. Sharp eyes watched each ghosting step she took back wards, understanding that she intended to bolt. Ah, but he would not let her go. If he had to chase her all around the Wilds and drag her back kicking and screaming Odinn knew he would do it. He had claimed her as his slave and she would serve him until he saw fit to release her; if she did not like that then he could give her only one other option grim and final as it would be. He did not believe in pointless deaths, knowing that pointless deaths would not see him into Valhalla.
Just as he suspected when she finished speaking she turned with a grace that would have made any ballerina jealous and bolted off. Without any hesitation Ragnar lunged after her as soon as he saw her turn, paws pounding the earth as she raced away from him, not bothering to see if Thistle was following after them. At that moment nothing mattered to the Viking then capturing his prize. With a thrilled, low chuckle the Viking stayed behind her, pushing himself harder and faster with the intention to keep his momentum propelling him further, barreling after her with the confidence that he would catch her.
His blood sang in his veins as the Berserker hurled after her, when he was close enough he lunged at her with the intention of tossing his weight into her to knock her off balance and send her body sprawling to the ground.