Speaking with Charon, as Ragnar was, had effectively taken his own mind off of the fact that they were outside the territory because the child had been trying to sneak out of the Bay in search for Liyani, as well. Or perhaps he hadn't snuck at all. Ragnar could not give them his full, undivided attention at any capacity, having so much on his plate as it was, but he tried, at the very at least to spend time with them, to teach them the things that Verrine would have, would the male have still been alive. Perhaps taking time to speak to Charon, like this, even if the boy was still too young to understand, or even if it was about meaningless nothings would help ease the child's suffering. Or, perhaps it wouldn't. Ragnar didn't know, and did not know how to make things better for the child. He was no God and could not perform the impossible. Scarred and blinded half of his face rose tilted skyward as the Viking cocked his head at Charon's next question, one that Ragnar himself had, had numerous times. In Ragnar's own culture there wasn't such a thing as a “last name”. In all technicality, his sons were 'Ragnarsson' and his daughter was 'Ragnardaughter”. Loðbrök was nothing more than a nickname that he had earned as he'd worked his way up the rankings of the Berserkers. It was only when he came to the Teekon Wilds did he “use” it in the place of a last name.