Stone Circle I sometimes have wondered, where you've gone?

It was early that morning. Bjorn was up with the sun, taking right to border patrol. Like many times before, his patrol is standard, nothing strange, out of place, until a scent came across on the breeze. He thought to himself as he lifted his nose to the air, about the recent visitors they had had. This wasn’t the same scent though, and so he pursued it.

His nose went from air to ground, chuffing along until it grew stronger, and he halted, for in front of the stones stood a lone wolf, a female swathed in the shades of ice, black decorations on her monochrome pelt. She was of a lean build. 

“You have reached the borders of Kvarsheim. I am Bjorn of Kvarsheim. What is your name, why have you come here?” His voice did not boom, but it was deep, firm, with no intentions of scaring the young lady.