[m] water that i crave

Ragnar was proud of what he had built here, proud of the effort put into it by the members of his pack, of his family, for they were all family now even if it was only by the bond they shared with one another. It was a little confusing making a distinction of his pack family and his wives and children, deciding in that moment that when speaking of his wives and children he would call them fjölskylda speaking the word family in his native tongue to make the distinction that he, otherwise, had a hard time making with his limit of knowledge when it came to the common tongue. Eitri had seen to it that he was bilingual in them but it was Nerian that had assisted him in refining it, despite that she also spoke in his native tongue as well; living in the Teekon Wilds and being forced to speak the common tongue day in and day out also helped but it made him ache for his own language too, not regretting his decision to teach it to Thistle and his children as well. It allowed him to speak it freely for even if his children were not perfect at speaking yet, they at least understood him.

He had not noticed his Priestess Wife at first, surprisingly, his attention too focused on the moonlight shimmering upon the ever moving waves out in the distance of the sea, as far as Ragnar could see. Ragnar had heard the sound of approaching footfalls, heavy as they shifted and disturbed the sand under foot, and turned his eyes towards her, catching the barely sound of his name leaving her lips on a breath. Her rush to greet him was a bit of a surprise to the Viking, who greeted her with a smile, and a soft Hello beautiful, as she drew nearer to him, the touch of her nose against his neck electrifying the nerve endings that were located there. Ragnar drew in a soft, ragged breath as she settled beside him, her body pressed against his. It wasn't as if it was the first time he'd ever felt a woman's body, nor even the first time he had felt hers but still there was a novelty to it, a newness to allowing himself to be this close to Nerian always, and a newness to her allowance of it. He would spend many lifetimes making it up to Thistle for allowing him to have both of them, for once breaking his validation that the Gods gave with one hand and took with the other. I am damp my love, Ragnar spoke to her with a soft chuckle though he made no effort to move away from her.

He wished to look at her but their position did not allow him that leisure and so he inclined his muzzle as best he could to lick her ear, and nip gently at the tip of her ear before smoothing his tongue over the velveteen fur of it once more before he bent down and peppered kisses along her jaw and lips, letting out a soft whine of delight.

TABLE CODE BY JOHN