It was rare for Týr to venture too far from the mountain side that Tuwawi and Njal intended to claim for their pack. He did not wish to miss the fire kissed Queen's call for him when the time came, having pledged his loyalty to the pair. His tentativeness to form roots had nearly dispersed with the knowledge that he would be there from the very start, that he was to play a vital role in the creation of their and his own legacy. He desired to shed the title 'Ragnarsson' in favor of something with much more meaning to him. He was so much more than just Ragnar's son, destined for greatness beyond his father's own. To keep a hold on 'Ragnarsson' was to limit himself. He desired to take Ironside, as it was the name that he had felt he had earned but remained hesitant. He had not done anything to earn his own name, yet. That would come later and in time.
Týr had, finally, succumbed to his boredom of doing nothing but the tedious repetition of hunting and filling the caches he had made in preparation for the day when Tuwawi and Njal would finally claim the territory that Týr had been trying to inhabit in their absences there. After all, he didn't want another wolf coming in and thinking that the territory was up for grabs when it wasn't. It was true it wasn't, exactly, claimed yet but Týr had no intentions of letting anyone who wasn't supposed to be there waltz around the territory. He was too devoted to the Sveijarn pair's cause, surprised with how quickly he had taken to them and their soon-to-be fledgling pack. Nevertheless, the Rekkr allowed himself to explore a bit, to stretch his legs knowing that he he was allowed to do so. He wasn't tethered to the mount but he wanted fiercely to prove his loyalty and devotion to his soon-to-be Alphas. He wanted them to know they had not placed their trust wrongly in him.
Lately, it seemed that Týr that he had taken a liking to mountains, with no real explanation of why. His body remembered the regal way in which he had once moved upon Tartok's treacherous slopes even though his mind did not. As far as the Rekkr was aware he had never before stepped a paw on the craggy lands, having lived his life on the mostly flat-lands of Odinn's Cove, right on the coast. It was his supposed new found love of them that had drawn him to Mount Akipuni, where he lounged against a lower crag pf the mount, chocolate colored body stretched out. Crystalline blue eyes scoured the lands below lazily not paying very much attention to what was happening below him, allowing his mind to wander in the peace that the mount afforded him.
a crime so old as the sky and bone