Stavanger Bay Sing me a siren song

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I have humility Ragnar? Do you think I am a good leader for the most part? I know very well you think I am too soft about some things. But overall. She was not fishing for a compliment, she was merely pointing out the obvious.

Thistle listened to him and shook her head, growling again as she nipped playfully at his shoulder and the side of his jaw. Nothing to harm and she didn't even catch his skin, mostly air. However, she was in a playful mood and he may not be, but she was and he could not kill her good mood. She did take pause to have her ears stand up, Odinn's cove had a big reputation then? SHe tilted her head to the side, waiting on an answer to her question. Thistle had never heard of the cove, but she had not known many packs growing up, her parents living on the outskirts of most. Her mother was friendly with them all and she would offer her services to all, but they were not part of one. I had not heard of the cove before i met you. But then again, we were not part of a pack. My mother was a midwife/healer who offered her services to all who requested it in trade of course, and occasionally a voodoo ritual, but not usually. She grew quiet as she contemplated on her mother and what she had done, most likely still did.

Thistle dipped her head I know you won't Ragnar, you have a few faults, but being a bad father is not one of them. She did not say anything else keeping her words to herself, and she meant no offense with those words anyway, rather complimenting him in a way.

Thistle listened It may be, but if you find the white eyes male, even not to see him yet, but know where he is. Then it is not a wasted trip, and we shall be fine here Dearheart. Thistle made a quiet sound at his nibble and as he spoke into her cheek she turned her muzzle and tugged playfully at his neck fur and then slid her muzzle across his throat to rest on his shoulder and she nipped again playfully, standing to brush her own chest against his and craning her neck she nibbled softly at the spot between his shoulder blades, granted she could not do it long having to almost stand on tip toes to do so. She slid her muzzle back down his shoulder and leaned her head into his chest backing up, flicking her tail to and fro.