Stavanger Bay Something or other

Wandering away from the den was always a process for her. She would go slowly, at first. She would move in fits and starts, keeping an ear turned back to listen for her mother or brothers. Would she be called back? Invariably, no. And so she would wander, farther and farther away until the trees closed in and the land became unfamiliar. Among the dappled shadows, she moved easily, a flash of silver that was there and gone. Ragna moved like a hunter, though clumsily, darting from bush to bush in chase of prey that wasn't there.

If at all possible, she kept to the shadows, to the eaves beneath boughs and rocks and bushes. They provided cover, which was good for a hunter and a warrior, and she fancied herself as both. So she kept to the darkness, until the darkness opened up and the earth began to roar.

Warily, she crept from the trees to investigate. In doing so, she found a great lake and, most surprisingly, her brother. "Floki!" she called, shouting above the din of the waterfall. She wanted to look more closely at it, but it was large and loud, and she was afraid. Ragna wasn't sure if she was heard above the noise, as her voice had always been soft, even when yelling. So she began to follow after him, moving quickly to try and catch up.