The scarred Scandinavian was stoic, quiet as the man spoke his peace in regards to what he could do, and what he would be willing to do, which was pretty much anything Stavanger Bay needed. That was useful, Ragnar deduced. Some wolves were set in their ways, and whether he was or not wasn't really a deciding factor in the decision that Ragnar had to make regarding the ebony colored male before him. “As long as your morals don't interfere with my rules against insubordination then we won't have a problem,” Ragnar warned grimly, having no time to play that game again. He had chased and threatened the lives of two wolves, one who had trespassed and the other, one of his subordinates who defied and spoke against him. As it stood, his threat still rang true. If either of them ever dared to appear on his borders again he would tear their lungs out of their body and wear their skulls as a crown. Ragnar wasn't as dramatic as Bjorn had been but flair had never hurt in the face of death and victory. The same was true for anyone. Ragnar was assertive and this was his pack, and he didn't put up with the things that Pump let slide because he wasn't Pump.
He was ten times more cruel. “Prove your loyalty and you will not be disappointed in what Stavanger Bay has to offer you in turn. I expect you to pull your weight, just as I expect from everyone else,” Perhaps it was a bit redundant but just because the other male boosted of skills didn't mean he would help contribute. Ragnar wasn't a mind reader, nor could he see into the past. He was running off of nothing but first impressions. “Welcome to the Bay.” Ragnar spoke simply before the Viking turned to his wife and offered her a nudge of his nose against the silken fur of her neck. Now, the two of them could seek somewhere more private to discuss what it was they needed too. “I will give you a tour,” Ragnar told their newest subordinate before he glimpsed back at Thistle. “And I will seek you later, my love.”
