Ragnar felt his Queen Wife cease in her attempts to clean his eye, and though he could not see her looking at him, with her being on his blind side, he could feel her eyes burn into his skin. “I am not going to die, wife,” Ragnar repeated, this time more resolute than the last. “Odinn has promised me a long life, remember?” Ragnar reminded her, whether she would listen or not. The Northman took a deep breath when she reprimanded him for exposing his teeth to her, barely resisting the urge to tell her that he would do what he wanted. “I am not in pain,” The Berserker mushroom had seen to that. Of course, it was insinuated that when it wore off he would be in severe pain but Ragnar was a Viking and wasn't going to let something so insignificant as pain stop him for seeing to his duties as the Jarl, nor from his patrols, nor from hunting. Both would be difficult with only one eye, but he was resilient and he would adapt.
Ragnar let out a soft, satisfied sigh when he felt her lean against him. Though she was on his blind side, he reached his muzzle for her anyway, knowing that he found her when his lips brushed against the soft fur of her own muzzle. He would do it all again, over and over, if it meant Odinn's favor for their family and the pack. There was no sacrifice too great, in Ragnar's mind. Some would think that it made his devotion to the All-Father dangerous, but the Gods wanted what they wanted and it was their duty to make it happen or feel the pain of their wrath which would be ten times worse than the sacrifice itself. “No,” Ragnar told her gruffly when she spoke of covering it. “I will not have it covered,” It felt like an insult to Odinn, and the platinum colored Jarl was insulted for his God. “It is a symbol of Odinn and his power. I will wear it proudly,” After all, Ragnar couldn't imagine how much more gruesome it was than the ugly scars upon that side of his face, anyway.
