Her heat cycle was almost over 2 more days if she had it figured out right and she had remember her mother's words. The gentle words of the matron Nuka still resounded in her head and she wondered indeed what she would do if something came about from a tryst she had. She shook her head and rolled her shoulders it was not worth thinking about at the moment. She refused to mar this beautiful morning with thoughts of what could come and what had come, instead she sat and curled her tail around her paws to continue watching the sun rise.
She knew she would have to check on some of her pack mates soon, but for now she was content to sit and watch and wait silently in the sun's stead.
Björn grew weary of sleep and restless in the demand to ‘rest’. Resting was not the same thing as healing. Healing would happen gradually as his body repaired the damage done to it, but resting made Björn, whom was not an idle creature by nature, bored and irritable, despite that he stubbornly saw to his Warden duties and had once taken a trip outside of the territories in search of any that might have wondered off and were too frightened to return. His search had turned out with no avail, if any had fled the territory that he either perished of their wounds or found shelter elsewhere Björn had been left to assume. Finding that the scabbing wound was itching and sweating beneath the rudimentary wrappings Thistle had bound them in, despite their relative freshness, Björn had ripped them off and contented to soothe the itch with his tongue, resisting the urge to bite for he did not want to end up tearing open the scab mainly because he did not want listen to another lecture from Thistle.
Björn had taken some portion from his morning before he laid food from the caches near the severely injured for when they awoke, and consumed some for himself not yet well enough to hunt on his own, to rinse saltwater over the scab, as a precaution, the ice cold water soothing the itches that often consumed him there. After that he had set upon his patrols giving pause only when an intoxicating scent wafted through the air, causing leathery, black nostrils to flare and without consciously deciding to trace it to it’s owner, Björn found himself following it to Thistle, regardless.
For a moment the scarred Savage stood there, staring down at the fawn colored maiden Caribbean blue eyes seething with dark, feral desire from the very primal of his core. It was the musk of another male - of another pack - that kept Björn frozen, giving him a glimpse of a clear mind of which he clung too, the dark desires swimming in his eyes freezing and moving to settle like ice in his stomach, giving no sign that it had once been there so plainly. “It is time I stopped calling you maiden, I think,” Björn broke his silence. Björn could not take down to her about her tryst if only because he had many with intentions of having many more (and if they bore him sons then that was even better). “It no longer seems to fit. You reek of him,” Björn stated obviously, wondering just how long it would take for her to begin showing unless he was infertile.
Thistle Cloud noticed the scarred warrior standing near her, but before she could speak he spoke instead. She was momentarily struck speechless and then embarrassed. Though she knew she would hear a lot from other pack mates and she may even lose friends or the pack even, she was not fully ready for them. She realized then that it was time too get ready for them, because if there were pups and she was allowed to raise them, they would face ridicule and such for a long time to come. In a way that made her heart hurt and she wondered if she was doing the right thing, by keeping them if she was allowed.
She shifted and looked straight at Bjorn an internal fire burning in her eyes, she was not looking at him to challenge him or anything of the like, she was just showing him that she was a determined individual. "Let's just skip the pleasantries I see, however I will not. Hello Bjorn How are you today? You're wound looks better. Glad to see you haven't ripped it open with your teeth. She then shifted her weight curling her tail tighter around her paws and shook her head soundlessly.
She spoke again but looked off into the distance so as to not see the damnation in his eyes that she was certain she would see there. "Yes I know I do. I am actually working on talking myself into it ,but today I plan to go see Pump and tell her what happened as it is. Even though I do not know if there will be pups, if there are I plan to ask to keep them. I also know very well that there maybe some cruel punishments I may have to endure, including death of me or my young ones, so please do not lecture Bjorn I already know what the consequences of my actions could already be. She was in no way being cruel or mean, she was simply stating that she planned on taking care of it, and that she would prefer not to have a dressing down from anyone else if she could possibly not. Though, she wondered if Bjorn would still give her one anyway, he did not seem the type to bite his tongue. "I hope that this does not make you think less of me as a healer at least. She spoke the last part softly and sadly.
A week ago she would not have spoken like this, a week ago she had been naive and innocent of much of the world, but numerous things had opened her eyes into the ways and the workings of the world, and her talk with Nuka had also done so.
For a few moments Björn contemplated the idea that Thistle was blatantly ignoring him assuming that it was because he had hurt her feelings with his words, even though he had not been derogatory with them. It would be hypocritical of him to be, when he was known for his short lived mate-ships and dalliances with females he was gifted from neighboring packs hoping to gain his favor. Björn watched as she shifted and met his gaze, her dark blue eyes seeming to blaze at him though not in a challenge. After all, what was she going to challenge? Anyone with a nose could smell the musk of a man, of another pack, combined with the intoxicating scent of her heat season that still whispered darkly things of temptation even so; arguing that he could still have her, that he could still stake a claim that would only last as long as his interest did. Even if she had rejected his advances earlier. “I've thought about it,” The Northerner admitted brazenly to her, before a sly, impish grin tugged at the edges of his lips. “But frankly, I didn’t want another lecture.”
Björn listened to her speech, inhaling the luring scent of her heat once more, stronger now than the musk of the man that clung to the tendrils of her fur, like the unheard siren song. There was a lazy fire slowly spreading to his loins that Björn was finding that he did not necessarily want to ignore. For him, used to taking what he wanted, to be trapped in the heat cycles of females that he could not have was like being tortured. “Your heat cycle is still strong,” Björn spoke before adding in a gruff voice, “You are still receptive, there is a chance his seed did not take and that another’s could, or even trump his seed.” It was not suggestive, just facts. That was not to say that the Savage did not desire her in that moment in time because, for the second time of being around her in heat, he felt like he was going to go insane; but he did not want to put his consideration for the Beta position, sought actively after by Björn himself in jeopardy. “Is a man you don’t even know worth all of that?” He couldn’t help but ask.
It was a question he had asked himself many times, even as he traded one wife for another.
Björn did not really have a answer because he did not love any of them.
“Does your one night stand affect your healing abilities any?” Björn asked her, following right up after her statement.
Thistle Cloud blinked at the large male for a moment trying to see if his words needed read between the lines. It did not sound like it, and he had not tried to force himself onto her or offer her any advances since he was in delerium, so she deduced that he was just simply stating a fact. A fact that she knew, but she was not planning on trying none the less. She had her fill of males lately to be completely honest. She had yet to hear from the masked one since, their dalliance in the forest. Though she did not regret it and a part of her cared for him in a strange way, though she knew virtually nothing about him. A part of her that was still young and star struck and always would be, a tender wounded place she would lock up tight.
Thistle blinked again and smiled a little sadly and said quietly, "I was caught up in the moment Bjorn I do not regret it, if that is what you are asking. Perhaps for once I did not watn to be good. That was all she had to say on the subject really, it had been a moment of weakness a moment she would not regret and if she was given little ones to nurture and raise well it would be even more worth it. She spoke again, "and if there should be pups then yes I would say it was worth it, because pups are truly a gift even if their father is not present.
She thought about his words and she knew he spoke the truth, "No it will not affect my healing, but I am not foolish enough to believe that some will not want my help when they realize i betrayed our pack in a way if you will.
A high pitched sound of mirth - a giggle Björn realized after a few seconds - had risen from Thistle and slipped into the air around them. It was not a sound he was accustomed to hearing and was not sure if he liked the noise, or not. “I know I am.” The Viking admitted, but did not make grand promises of trying to be an easier, more obedient patient. Even the medic of Odinn’s Cove had been frustrated by Björn’s lack of responsibility when it came to nursing his own wounds. Thistle seemed to feel the need to explain what had happened in that moment - something that he knew all too well. “I know the feeling, I have known and acted upon it many times,” Björn admitted softly, unashamed of his numerous wives and dalliances. “However, I also know that it never lasts. Lust is just lust, only heat of the moment.” He was sure she did not need him to lecture her about it but he was speaking for extremely personal experiences. “The way you say that,” Björn paused, the icy depths of his irises skimming over her body and lingering boldly upon her face. “Makes me think you are not so different from me, maiden.”
Which, depending on how she chose to look at it, might not have exactly been a compliment, despite that it was a subtle admittance of kinship, regardless.
“If it does not affect your abilities to heal the ill and injured then I do not see you as any less of a healer,” Björn told her with a lofty shrug of his broad shoulders, grimacing at the sickening feeling that he felt in his stomach and muzzle when the gesture tugged at the scabbed flesh and sinew. “I am curious though, out of every man you could have chosen why a man you didn’t know? Why a man who would never care for you or the children?” For all of his flaws if any of his wives would have ended up with children, Björn would not have dropped them for another in his desire for sons and daughters; and if he had known that he had been successful in impregnating Sif he would not have left Odinn’s Cove, and if Odinn himself had insisted, he would have brought her with him. Children could bind a pairing just as strongly as love could, he believed.
To say her giggle had been close to hysteria would have been accurate, she was not usually one to deign to loud feminine giggles. Having been raised with 2 brothers who would have teased her unmercilessly if she had. It had been a stressful few days and her mind was not all clear.
He looked at her brazingly and she tilted her head wondering if he was being a male or if he had done so because of the candor of the conversation. Realizing that his words could be considered a compliment or not she decided to take it as the former as she was quick to realize that he would not compliment easily if at all. A small smile hovered at the corners of her mouth at his slip of tongue again, with the word Maiden. She raised a brow for a moment and spoke quietly on a bubble of mirth, "I don't think Maiden is the correct term, is that not what you said? She knew she was playing with fire, but she could not help but to tease the older male a bit. He was so stoic and brutish, it was fun to try and fluster him though she had as of yet to succeed.
Thistle Cloud saw his grimace and leaned forward to peer at his wound a little better to make sure it was just from pulling not because it was seeping again. "You make me Nervous Bjorn with your wound. I am always afraid it will fester again, but so far it looks okay. I will feel much better when it is completely healed. She leaned back again from peering at his wound.
Thistle Cloud looked at him for a moment and then spoke quietly "I did not know that he would not stay Bjorn. I have had very limited contact with males other than brothers. I also told you I was caught up in the heat of the moment. I was all alone in the forest taking a nap and woke up..what was I to do, no females around my first heat cycle and I had met him before and he was very kind he still is very kind and he is a healer as well. Other than that I can't really answer that question. He had been very kind every time she had met him and that is what she would tell her pups if there were any.
A slow smirk tugged at the edges of Björn’s lips at her comment, a soft snort escaping his leathery, black nostrils as his nose twitched once. “So I did,” He murmured coolly, letting his gaze linger on hers for a moment before he inhaled and looked away, eyes raking the earth and forest around them as if he were looking for any sign of potential danger, though he was confident that they were safe from intrusions within the heart, or the new, temporary heart of the Ridge. Even though his instincts never let his guard fully down, even within the proposed safety of pack borders. He had led enough raids in his first year alone to know that safety was just a fool’s dream, an illusion. “Old habits die hard they say.” Björn finished with a lazy, impish grin.
When the girl leaned forward to peek at his wound upon his shoulder, the scent of her heat wafted upon the lazy breeze, taunting him like the perfume of a much desired lover, that secret scent that was enough to force any man to his knees to stake his claim upon her. Lips quivered as they pulled back from his teeth, as the Viking nipped at her shoulder blade, teeth making to rake through fur in his attempt to push her away from him, though in reality he fought the very primal and feral urge to grasp her scruff and pull her into the embrace of his broad chest and strong arms.
The sheer force of will it had taken for him to put distance between them, his nostrils flared, his pupils dilated with the obvious want that surged through him like a fire was not something to be trifled with. “Odin help me, kona, what are you trying to do to me? Not so close.” He warned her, dropping his head so he was staring up at her cautiously, as if she were Loki trying to trick him. Maybe she was, even though there had been nothing suggestive, seductive, or inviting in her action. No, it had been innocent in it’s origin but her body was giving him different signals and while Björn had never dappled in un-consented sex with his kinsmen (though he had never stopped it, admittedly), Thistle was not a slave, neither was she a woman found and claimed as such on a raid, but he was beginning to see the temptation if only because her body was screaming at him, even if she did not want his advances.
Their topic of conversation switched back to her midnight lover and Björn simply shrugged. “I’m not judging you, I have no room too.” The Viking spoke simply, quietly, looking at any place other than her, afraid that he would not be able to stop himself from accepting the invitation that was pouring off every pore of her body if he did look at her.
Thistle Watched him looking around and she realized this wolf was never relaxed. She knew that was good, but it also made her a bit sad. After all there should be some relaxation at times. "So I see. She murmured at him.
Thistle jumped about a foot in the air when his teeth connected to her scruff and she quickly backed up wary and confused. She had not meant to upset him was he going to attack her or worse, he was a great deal larger than her and she was in heat, curse this infernal cycle and the fact that it just had to have happened when there was a tragedy and she had others to take care of. She was breathing heavily through her nostrils watching him with wide blue eyes.
She then realized that he was trying to be respectful as best he could, even for a brute he had a small sense of morals she had noticed. She slowly relaxed and backed up softly. See i'm sorry I don't realize the effect I have.... Her lower lip trembled once, but she bit her lip and hardened her jaw line making her eyes glitter. Curse these hormones she was not a little girl prone to crying or exaggerating and she was acting like an absolute nut case. "I'm sorry i usually do not get this upset over silly stupid trivial things. I'm acting like i've been eating poppy seeds with these mood swings. She snorted at herself once, gave the larger male more room.
Thistle Cloud was unsure what to do or say now, as he tried to avoid looking at her, should she offer to leave, granted that would give her hindquarters directly in his line of vision and reach. Should she have him leave or should she sit there and continue to talk about silly little things. She licked her muzzle once twice as she was thinking on what to do.
Björn felt her jump in reaction to his teeth in her scruff, but soon enough there was distance between them, though out of the two of them she looked the most disheveled. Her breaths were heavy from her nostrils as she stared at him with eyes darkened by the width of her pupils. He almost laughed, feeling like he should have been the one to look like a demon from hell had risen to torment him instead of her, because in that moment he certainly felt tormented. “Any male within a mile radius of you will want to claim you, and if he tells you otherwise he is lying,” Björn told her between gritted teeth, though he still refused to look at her. It wasn’t her fault - not really - but he felt ready to place the blame upon her, nevertheless. For rejecting his advances, for making him remember that she was a free woman and, therefore, without consent was untouchable.
Because Björn refused to look at her, he did not fall witness to the near tears he had almost brought her too. Not that he would have felt guilt for it, but still. “Why are you upset about it? What are you upset about?” Not satisfied until his curiosity was sated, the questions spilled from the Viking’s lips as he stared studiously at an apparently interesting rock that had moss growing up it’s side. If anyone should have been upset, it should have been him, as far as he was concerned, but he did not say this to her because her words did not make an exact sense to him.
She shook her head at his questions, she wanted to chuckle at his tone of voice, he had every right to be curious and she would answer him, but she was unsure what to tell him when she herself really had no idea why she was so moved to tears as of late. "I don't really know why I am upset other than that silly little things that normally would not bother me are bothering me, perhaps I am merely reacting to this season badly. After all it has been a bit of an emotional one. She smiled and shifted trying to not move to much so as to keep her own sensuous heat and smell to herself as best she could, though she knew she could not truly mask it.
Thistle informed him that she was hormonal, of which made some sort of sense to the Viking because he knew that the scent of her hormones, whispering saccharine temptations to his feral instincts, to let his lack of moral compass compel him forth despite her previous rejection, teasing that this time she would not reject him. Pupils widened in their pools of ice and subtly he shook his head as if that would truly dispel the hissings and poisonous thoughts that were encouraging him to show her what a true Viking was like. That all she had seen thus far was nothing when compared to the blunt, ugly truth of it. “You can’t hide it, and you can’t hide from it.” Björn told her in a blunt simplicity. Why would you want too lingered on the tip of his tongue but he bit it back with internal restraint.
“If it was the fact that I pushed you away that has upset you,” Björn began, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled, toes flexing into the warming earthen floor, tearing through the dirt as discreetly as he could, though the flick of his tail was suggestive. “I could come closer.” Yes, he could erase the distance between them in a few easy strides but he was not so sure his restraint would hold with the lack of distance. “I had considered your previous rejection when I had done it.” Björn spoke as if that was supposed to make her feel better about his abrupt and rather rude movement that had put a good amount of distance between them.
Thistle cloud shook her head laughing softly, No Bjorn truth be told you frightened me a little bit when you did that. I did not know what your intent was at first. You seem a man of action, and when you moved that quickly I reacted badly obviously, but eh what are you to do. She laughed again and shook her head, "No Bjorn you can stay right where you are, I do not mind the distance. And I thank you for thinking of that and me before you reacted. That was kind of you Though she did not know it, there were not kind thoughts in the other's mind but rather sensuous lust filled ones, but she was willing to believe that he had good intentions entirely, she considered him almost a friend at this point, though she still did not entirely trust him, she trusted him to save her life if the occasion called for it and to protect her and the pack that she did trust.
The snort that had escaped Thistle’s being did not seem unladylike to Björn whose definition of a ‘lady’ likely differed vastly from most other peoples’. On the short and low of things, he barely noticed it aside from simply acknowledging it along with the words that she spoke soon after. “Not necessarily,” Björn contradicted softly, his mind drifting to his third (and now previous) wife, Dagmar. “My ex-mate had gone into heat but she miscarried. Our healer said that she wasn’t fertile despite that her body went through the cycles.” He was soft spoken, as always, but there was twinge of regret in his voice. Regret that she had been infertile and unable to bear him many and strong sons. It had been her in fertileness and his soon lack of general interest in her (as it had been with his wives before her) that had him booting her off to a neighboring pack as a “gift”. A trick, really. Infertile beauty that he was certain not to inform said neighboring pack’s alpha male. “You are afraid of me,” He repeated with a wiry smile tugging at the edges of his lips.
That was a good thing, he told himself. He was a dangerous man, nothing that was truly safe, warm, or secure about him. “I am a dangerous man,” He told her honestly, in a slightly wistful tone but he was sure that Thistle and her instincts were already well informed of that fact. If her instincts hadn’t picked up on that surely she would not feel the fear of him that she did. She thought it was kind of him, though in truth, it had not been a kind gesture at all. It had been selfish, borne of his overpowering desire to sit as Pump’s second in command. He was pretty sure that taking Thistle (especially against her consent though he had never stooped so low before) would have demolished every single piece of foundation he had began to build to see himself to that rank. However, the Viking chose not to comment figuring that what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her.
Thistle Cloud felt a twinge of sadness for the former female, also afraid to ask what happened to her she decided not to question it. "That is awful I feel bad that she and you had to go through that, Pups are a treasure. Thistle cloud heard the regret and it tightened the handle of sadness she had felt for his former mate.
Thistle Shifted her weight and said quietly "Not entirely afraid of you no, but I know to be wary of you, after all Bjorn you obviously have been in many battles, you are much larger than me and you are a bit standoffish. No offense intended at all though. She frowned momentarily as she repeated these things hoping she did not offend him, she was just telling him of some things she had observed thus far about him.
Thistle looked at his face for a moment and then looked away, "Yes Bjorn I believe that you could be dangerous very much.
Björn - no Ragnar - for all his faults could not hold grudges and though he had been inherently mad at Dagmar for losing their sons in a sweep of blood and tiny corpses he had not thought, even once, to kill her. He hadn’t loved her - in fact it was speculated that he couldn’t love at all - and he had not felt grief for her pain, nor had he felt pity for her. He had mourned the dead bodies of his would be sons as he had buried them listening to her tell him that Odinn had taken them to Valhalla where they would grow big and strong in his hall. It had been the only time that Ragnar had ever truly been angry with his God, turning upon her instead (for she was within mistakable distance of him) and snarling that “they should have grown big and strong here, with us”. The third, the smallest though he had realized as he placed it’s delicate unmoving body in the grave beside the other two had not been a son at all but in fact a daughter. Even covered in blood it had been easy to tell that she would have been beautiful, bearing the platinum silver of his own coat. Though Dagmar had attempted to convince him that they could have more sons he had wanted none of it, and had traded her away when her health had recovered without so much as a backwards glance. It had been his ugliest moment, worse somehow, than even killing his own brother for a woman that he had lost interest in within the following months, even worse than taking said brother’s name as a moniker. “It does not matter,” The Viking said with cold indifference, a fierce scowl making even the handsome half of his face appear demonic.
“She failed me and she paid the price for it.” It had occurred to him that maybe he might have tried for more sons with her if he had not buried a beautiful daughter among them - that for some reason within that ritual had been extremely crucial. The lack of love towards her despite her devotion to him had allowed him to pawn her off as if she were nothing more than a slave girl. Which, she had more or less became when she had lost their children. A storm had began brewing in the icy depths of his irises which bore into her, mapping the delicate curves of her face as if he were contemplating if she could bear him strong sons. It was a useless contemplation she had made it quite clear several times that she rejected him but he was a man and those were his thoughts, nevertheless. She looked away from him then, murmuring about her belief that he could be very dangerous but he spoke nothing, feeling that there was nothing to say.
There was a moment, rare, unbidden that left the Viking unsure of where the building urge came from that encouraged him to speak it but he spoke with the familiar soft spoken self, “My name is Ragnar - not Björn. Björn was my older brother.” Maybe because he no longer wanted to be associated with the moniker anymore, because it made him feel like he had adopted his deceased brother’s skin. Björn had been weak but Ragnar was not.
Thistle Cloud was instantly taken aback by the demonic look on her pack mates face. Truth be told it made her blood run cold. She realized then that if he really wanted to he could hurt any and all in his pathway. She hoped that she was never at the receiving end of such a look ever. For a moment pity welled up in her heart for the former mate of his.
Thistle Cloud gasped slightly and spoke again "Why it wasn't her fault unless she took herbs or something to kill them. Why would you blame her for something that she had no control over? For a moment thistle was angry at her pack mate. How could he punish a mother who had just had the worst punishment already dealt to her. To lose one's pups for a father was tragic for a mother it was debilitating and most of the time they did not survive themselves whether from complications or grief. To punish her seemed so callous and mean. She wondered why he was staring at her with such a strange expression.
Thistle cloud tilted her head and looked at him with new eyes. "Ragnar fits you better I must admit, but why change your name? Are you hiding from something? Or just a new start? Before today she would have thought he took his brother's moniker because he cared for him, but now after his words about his former mate and how she was punished she did not think that, that was the case anymore.
The young girl’s gasp was a startled sound, and her words held the undercurrents of anger directed at him that made the Viking’s lip curl back ever so slightly in a warning. He did not have to explain his decisions to her, neither did she have any real right to judge him. He came from a vastly different culture than her and he had done what he had believed to be right; though in truth his right and wrong seemed to differ from most others. “Because it was her body and therefore her fault,” The last word was softer than the others, somehow making it more deadlier than if he had hissed or even snarled it. “I don’t see why you’re getting so angry with me about. What does it mean to you? It’s not as if it’s something you ever have to worry about.” His anger was seething close to the surface now, but his demeanor did not change, his voice never raised. In truth, other than the stormy look in his eyes there was no real indication that he was cross with her, currently. He even managed a slow big-as-you-please smirk as was his custom when his wrath was burning through him like a fire consuming a pyre.
“Enlighten me mær what exactly you think her punishment was,” Ragnar had a distinct feeling that she was assuming something he did not do. “It wasn’t even a punishment, really,” He dismissed with a flippant flick of his tail. “I sent her as a gift to the neighboring pack’s alpha male. She is happier over there,” It was an assumption of course because Ragnar didn’t know. For all he was aware the neighboring pack’s Alpha male could have killed her when he figured out she was infertile. Thistle didn’t need to know that and Ragnar was cautious now, not wanting her to ruin his chances for the Beta rank because of her anger at him now. “She was not fit to be a Viking.” It was not cruel to him because it was simply the truth. He had shown her a kindness, in truth, by sparing her life, by taking her out of the pack that she did not truly belong in.
“I am hiding from nothing,” He partially lied because while he was trying to keep Sveinn from realizing he was in the Teekon Wilds Ragnar could not say that he was hiding from the boy. “Some of my younger wolves were drawn by their respective Gods to Teekon Wilds to carry out their orders. I feared if they caught wind of my presence here they would abandon their missions to join up with me.” Which was, more or less, the truth of it. “The Gods are not to be disobeyed and they need to learn to overcome the obstacles instead of cowering back to what is safe.”
Thistle Cloud stared at him trying to make sense of his words he had angered her yes, his culture was one full of injustices she was finding. However, she also knew him to be dangerous and she did not wish to tread on ground that burned. She had to think about what to say and do to explain without angering him further, because she was certain at this point that she had angered him, but in her own mind it was justly deserved. It may have been the female's body but it was not her fault sometimes nature took over regardless. She tilted her head and slanted her eyes slightly. "It may have been her body Ragnar, but not her choice to lose the children. It was natures choice and your god's! I am upset because you so callously got rid of her, just because she miscarried your children which is a tragedy truly, but that happens sometimes especially if the mother was young, or if she had been handled roughly. she could have had a perfectly healthy litter in her next season, I have seen it happen. It is not that it really means anything to me, it is the unfairness of it and how females are treated I do not like to see them mishandled." She refused to tell him of her mother who suffered years of abuse at the hands of a male, because she knew he would not care.
Thistle cloud sighed in exasperation realizing that the white furred male did not understand her stance. She wondered how to phrase her words carefully. "It is not the punishment Ragnar it's the fact that you felt the need to punish her in some way because she lost the puppies, something that she had no control over. I just do not see the logic of it, or the fairness. However I will deign respectfully to say that your culture is not my own and what I see as an injustice is perhaps common place for you and yours? The last part she offered up a question for his redemption into her good graces at the moment if he said it was his culture she would not question and she would drop it, but if he did not and the assumption was made that he acted because he was a jerk well she would continue to harangue and argue, for at this point she was far to deep in her own spit fire ways to back down. She had a backbone the small sepia girl from the wilds and Ragnar was now seeing it.
She dipped her head calmly, "That is certainly admirable of you Ragnar. Do all you vikings go on journeys like this often? Because your God's tell you too. She was really curious at this point.
“What do you know of my Gods, maiden?” His anger finally woven through his voice, breaking through his careful façade of grins and nonchalant poise when he was angry. “I did not love her, my interest in her had ran it’s course, as it did with my previous mates - as it always does,” He admitted feeling frustration build up within his chest, layered atop the unease of his anger that seethed like an infected wound beneath his skin, poisonous and disgusting all the same. Ragnar was baffled - unable to understand why her unwillingness to see his way, that her anger at him caused him to react so. He had angered many others before so why was it hers that bothered him like an itch he couldn’t scratch. “You are mistaken on how me and mine treat our females. Our females are our equals in many ways, Thistle. Their opinions count, they fight beside us in battle, some shield maidens fight better than some of the males.” He paused licking his lips, his scarred and unscarred ears slicking back to lay against the crown of his skull. “I have nothing but respect for females, however, I need to ensure my bloodline continues, and it was cruel of me to keep her around when I did not return her affections.” Half of his reasoning was entirely selfish, of course, but he had, if only for a small fragment of a moment, considered Dagmar.
“For the Jarls, like me? I suppose it is custom. I don’t know, maybe if I had loved her it would have been different,” Surely it would have been, he reasoned. “But I can’t love. I feel lust for a month, a year and then it is gone, as if it had never existed in the first place.” It had been that very tendency that had spurred Ragnar to kill (the original) Björn, that had seen him at the helm of the Cove. “No,” Ragnar spoke in response to her question. “We go on raids during the Winter months when our Jarl commands us too and most of the time that is the only time that many go on a ‘journey’. Commands from the Gods are rare to be given directly. Usually they only speak through the Seer. It happens sometimes though, it is why I am here.” He murmured in a thoughtful tone, his eyes leaving her to search for any signs of Odinn’s ravens - Huginn and Muinin.
Thistle stared at the stalwart male in front of her and said quietly "I do not know anything of your gods other than what you have told me. However, I am assuming that if something were to happen it would be because the god's chose it to happen yes? So therefore you're pups dying was what the gods wanted no? Thistle cloud was glad he was at least being honest about his lustful thoughts, but she also allowed a tendril of worry to snake through her mind as she realized that perhaps then he had not been completely delirious that one day, surely not surely he was delirious rather than worry herself she tucked that malicious thought away. Thistle stared at him for a few seconds trying to decide if he was telling the truth. Very well Ragnar I believe you, perhaps I jumped to conclusions, but I still do not think it was very nice to trade her as if she was a piece of bone from meat and you had sucked all the marrow out and were tired of it. And though I do not like it I do agree that it was nicer of you to let her go than keep her when you could not or would not return her affections whichever it may be.
Thistle listened and it saddened her that the male in front of her could not or perhaps he would not feel love, but only lust. It did not sit well with her, but what was she to do at least he was honest about it to her and to himself. Thistle listened with baited brow. "Your customs and religion are foreign and strange to me, though very interesting. What is a shield maiden? Realizing that she had no idea what it was though she was still a little bit upset with her pack mate she could not keep from questioning him about his religion and customs.
Thistle was right though Ragnar was loath to admit it. The death of his and Dagmar’s children had been the decree of the Allfather and he knew that, of course he knew it, it had, after all, been the only time he had felt anger at Odinn. Odinn in return had brought him Týr, wiping the Amazon Prince’s memory allowing the transition to Viking to be easy for him for surely the captive boy would have resisted. It had been enough for Ragnar and eventually he had began to feel the affection towards the boy that he would have felt for any of his true born sons. For the majority of what Thistle said, Ragnar chose not to comment upon, tired of discussing things that were inherently private to him. He didn’t have to explain himself to her, and she could be as angry with him as she liked. It would not change him, or his beliefs. She did not understand because she was not a Viking, and he felt no need in exhausting himself with attempting to make her understand. He and his ilk led brutal lives with brutal laws, did ruthless acts in the name of their Jarl and their Gods. It was the way it always been and would always be. “A shield maiden is just a name for a female warrior - the ones who fight beside us in battle.” He explained simply, giving her a casual shrug of his shoulders. Like Berserker it was just a title, something to call that which they were.
Thistle pursed her lips as she listened. "Are all your women shield maidens or slaves? Thistle did not think that either one of the said titles would suit her. She did not like to fight or violence and she would object greatly too being someones slave to do and act upon what they say when they say it. She would be a horrible slave actually and probably end up dead because she would rebel so badly and not take that lying down.
Caribbean blue eyes lingered upon her face, watching for her reactions, fascinated by them in a subtle way that he did not care to examine further than that. Women, the Viking had found, tended to make more facial expressions than men, and there was something quirky about them, sometimes softened, sometimes devoted, sometime hardened. They ranged vastly and there was one for each emotion that she seemed to be feeling within herself. It had always been more beneficial for Ragnar to have an expression of stone, or if not stone then mirth even when he was at his angriest moments, preferring a deceptive smile over a tell-tale frown. As if he were plotting ways to kill someone as he disarmed them with a slow, sexy twitch of his lips upwards. “No,” Ragnar answered, considering for the briefest moments of leaving it at that before he added, “there are free women that are not warriors or slaves.” They did, well, everything else, Ragnar assumed. His own mother had been a free woman, skilled for her ability to move with stealth and her endurance granting her the equivalent of messenger.
Thistle listened and felt a lightening in her chest that she had not known was tight. She had wanted his culture to have some good things she realized. She wanted him to be likable and she wanted to like him. She wanted to chuckle at herself for the lengths she went to make a friend if that is what you could call him, no she still considered him an aquaintance truthfully she did not even know if friend was in his vocabulary. "that's good then. Your culture is very interesting Ragnar. She titled her head and then sighed "I better go check on Kennedy, but for all my healing he does not seem to be getting better in his mind or soul I don't know what to do. She was disheartened by Kennedy's attitude of late.