the way that it shines may just dwindle with time

So I wasn't sure if she was actually in Stavanger Bay or not so I was really vague about his location. I tried not to powerplay a whole lot but if anything needs changed please let me know! <3

It was foggy, the writhing water vapor heavy and thick in the air where it hung like a veil. It obscured the scarred Scandinavian's vision, disorienting him within the confines of Odinn's sacred forest, the lands he had claimed as his led there by a one eyed raven. With black, leathery nose turned to the ground the Viking followed the trail of earth until it gave way to sand, barely catching the salty brine of the sea where the fog thinned a small bit. It wasn't enough to aid him much as far as his sight went, but luckily it was not the only sense that the canine relied upon. Still, he felt the effects of the disorientation, feeling turned around in his own home. He had begun his patrols earlier and had not intended to stray so far when he had paused for a bite to eat, after he had taken some to his wives and children. He desired Nerian to eat a little more than she was accustomed too, despite that she was not yet pregnant. Even so, he did not want her to be so unprepared for carrying around his children, hoping that if the winter was a harsh one a little extra added meat and fat would only serve to better her and the children's chances of survival. He knew what to expect now, having been there through all of Thistle's pregnancy. Hopefully, this time around, knowing what to expect, it would be easier for all of them.

A gurgled howl cut through the fog, suddenly, close by, catching him off guard. For a moment the man of platinum silver paused in his steps, ears cupping forth to attention atop his skull before he lunged forward towards the source just in time to see the waves pull her under. The Viking had never feared the sea, even at her worst and held no qualms about diving in after her. The waves put up resistance as he barreled into the cold, salt water, a violent shiver rippling against the length of his spine as he searched for her shape and when he found it plunged his body beneath the water, reminiscent of the time he had dived in after Nerian and pulled her onto the shore, fearing that she had been trying to end her life.

While Ragnar had recognized the sound of voice as one of his — he was not about to allow a woman to drown on his watch. The brazen Berserker fought against the sting of the salt water in his eyes as he grasped her scruff and pushed off the sand floor, breaching the surface taking a greedy breath through his nose as he pulled her to the shore, up out of reach of the greedy, grasping tide that stretched viciously in it's desire to have her back. Óðinn láta hana vera á lífi, The Viking sent a prayer in his native tongue to his revered All-Father, too worried about her well being to think much beyond it, despite her status as stranger to him. Breathe. He pleaded of her in his soft, heavily accented voice unsure of what to do if she did not draw breath and cough any water she might have taken in on her own. He was not a harbinger of life but rather a harbinger of death.

TABLE CODE BY JOHN