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When Onyx's startled scream pierced the air as she turned to face him, the Jarl recoiled suddenly, front left paw frozen in mid air, wrenching it back towards his chest, ceasing his approach to his subordinate. Assuming that she was in danger or there was something like a massive bear behind him ready to deal out death's blow, the Viking's ears slicked back to his skull and he, with his singular eye, glimpsed over the shoulder he could look out of, lifting black, leathery nose to the sky in the hopes of catching some foreign scent. Of course, he smelled nothing but the salty brine of the sea, Onyx and himself. It sunk in moments later that it had been him that had elicited that response out of his subordinate and a sheepish look crossed the Northman's face, dominating his expression. He had forgotten his more... monstrous appearance. Others being intimidated he was used too, but actually being frightened was a whole different ballpark which made Ragnar wonder how bad it truly looked.

To soothe the air between them the Jarl offered her a cheeky grin in attempts of being soothing though he was not overly confident that it would work at soothing her. For a moment he had forgotten that she had not seen the newest scars to his face, nor the missing appendage. Onyx greeted him and offered him an apology as to which the Jarl shrugged off. He wasn't offended, hadn't been even in his minor confusion previous. “Do not worry Onyx, it's a monstrous sight, I know,” Ragnar played it off with another grin. That was only partially the truth. After all, it wasn't like had a mirror that he could see how he looked. “The Allfather, Odinn, has taken my eye,” And yet for it Ragnar did not feel wiser, nor had he seen any improvement or fortune their way as Odinn had promised him. If anything Stavanger Bay was doing worse than they had been before his eye had been taken.