Horizon Ridge We know what we are, but know not what we may be.

The new additions to the pack had been born only two days ago, but Julooke was determined to get her paw in the door sooner rather than later on becoming their sitter. Thistle seemed to trust her, but Julooke knew the determining wolf was Ragnar. If he didn't like her, didn't trust her, any hope of becoming the pack's puppysitter was lost.

So, today, Julooke set out to find Ragnar. It was late morning, and Julooke had already done some hunting for today, and even ran around the western borders to make sure they were secure. She had only been in the pack for just over a week, but she felt she was doing her best to show Ragnar and Pump that she was worthy to be here.

She trotted toward Thistle's den, a plump rabbit hanging from her jaws. While she was sure the new Dad was taking care of everything that needed to be done concerning the new family, it wouldn't hurt to show him she could help, too. And she didn't doubt Ragnar would be nearby, if not guarding the entrance. Slowly, she approached, her ears softly flattened and her tail tucked between her back legs. She knew she couldn't see the pups until after they had turned one month old, so she would make no attempt to go in the den. If Ragnar wasn't there, she would chuff to let Thistle know there was food waiting outside, and go in search of the male.

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Ragnar tried not to let his duties take him too far from the den where his young and new family resided but that was not always the case and though his duty as father should have came before all else — something he firmly believed in, as a surprising family man — he could not shirk his duties as Head Warden and Beta. It was not too much of a burden on the Viking because this was not his first time around that proverbial block; though granted when he and his fellow Berserkers had kidnapped Týr and the boy had lost his memory in the fight and Ragnar had decided to adopt him, he had managed to continue as the Lead Berserker, Jarl and Father and when Ragnar had led Odinn’s Cove he had led it by himself for a long measure. Granted, the boy had not been a newborn but Ragnar was not sure how it could be that different (he was possibly in for a surprise). He tried to make quick work of his patrols without sacrificing the quality of his sentry-like sweeps and moved to linger like a silver, scarred wraith near the den, watching it in the shaded moors, body like a broad and muscled sphinx where he lay, ears alert atop his skull, eyes fixed on the den in the nearby distance.

At the approach of footfalls, the Viking tensed, pushing himself quickly into a sitting position, muscles pulled taunt beneath his coat as he watched the shape emerge, black, leathery nostrils flaring to inhale. He recognized the shape as Julooke — something swinging from the clutch of her jaw, one of the Ridge’s newest members that had expressed her skills in watching pups. While he had not made a decision upon the matter he supposed he would have to make one rather soon, as he rose to all fours and began to head in Julooke’s direction as the woman laid her catch down, her chuff heard by the Viking as he neared. “Julooke,” He greeted her in his soft, heavy, thick accented voice calling the Theta’s attention hoping to draw her away from the mouth of the den where his young children suckled and slept. He had warned her of his tradition, and though she had made no attempts to enter the den, and he had not expected her disobey him but still, he was cagey regardless.

Ragnar had heard her approach and was on guard. Julooke set the rabbit down, and turned away from the mouth of the den, silently reassuring the Father that entering was not her intention. Her tail wagged in greeting, Hello, Ragnar. I was looking for you. I was hoping we could get to know each other a little better, if you have a little time to spare. She hoped her nervousness didn't show in her voice.

She hadn't realized until this moment just how scared she was of letting down her pack members. Growing up in Sterrenvuur, learning skills and trades was a part of life, and so was failing. It wasn't feared. Here, now, Julooke was afraid of not being enough. She knew her mistakes could get her exiled from the pack. Ragnar had told them bluntly when he accepted them that weaklings were not tolerated. Julooke was never one not to pull her weight. But, there wasn't so much riding on it, either.

If Ragnar were a different kind of man he might have sheepishly apologized for his behavior but alas, that was not the kind of man Ragnar was so he uttered nothing, figuring his behavior was warranted. As Ragnar watched Julooke turn away from the mouth of the den after setting her catch down for Thistle and greeted him. He returned her greeting silently with a nod of his head beckoning for her to follow him with a silent jerk of his muzzle intending to lead her away from the den, out of Thistle’s ear shot since the children were deaf and Ragnar knew they were not threatened from being reserved. Still, it would assist the Viking in being able to relax when they weren’t so close. His ears were attentive to Julooke’s words, at her suggestion that they get to know each better. “I have time to spare,” With his patrols finished and no one pressing for his attention as a leader, currently, his attention as both Father of the children and as her Beta belonged to her.

It was kind of a strange thing for Ragnar, realizing that someone actually wanted to get to know him, though Ragnar suspected that it was because Julooke was trying to win him over for sitting their pups if they were to need it. In reality, he had no real reason to reject her offer, the pups belonged to the Ridge, according to Pump, not the parents. This was something that the two disagreed on but there was nothing Ragnar could do about it at the present so he simply let it roll off of his back as best he could. When he felt they were far enough away the Viking reclined upon his haunches and invited Julooke to do the same if she wished, positioning himself so he was still facing the den. He stared at it for a few seconds before his gaze fell to Julooke, oblivious to her nervousness (and the fact that his quietness was probably doing nothing for it). He felt awkward if only because he was not sure how exactly he was supposed to approach this type of conversation and after a moment offered her a trademark grin of his for the lack of not knowing what else to do. “So let us talk,” He encouraged for her to go first.

Thankfully, the burly white male seemed accepting of her reasons of being here. She almost thought he would turn her away, but she was glad he didn't. Instead, he motioned for her to follow, which she did, Thanks, she said, grateful to him for the taking the time to speak with her. She understood this was basically socializing, and that he probably had better things to do. She hoped she could make this time worth both their whiles.

Julooke followed him, lowering her haunches to the ground, facing him. She didn't know he technically didn't have the authority to deny her what she wanted. It didn't matter to her. Julooke would never approach pups know their parent didn't want her to. His silence along the short walk did nothing to calm her nerves, but it didn't exactly make it worse. When he beckoned her to start, it did. She took a moment to search for the right way to start when she remembered something. Thistle said you were a Viking. What does that mean? she asked genuinely. Getting to know him, and Thistle, would be a great way to get to know how they wanted their pups raised. Julooke understood that it was not up to her to raise the pups in whatever way she wanted. She was to look after them, and make sure the parents' traditions and beliefs were respected.

Ragnar wasn’t very good with socialization, had never truly been even when he had been the Jarl of the Cove. He was not loud and boisterous like his kinsmen and while this worked to a certain advantage it also made him seem social inept (which maybe he was), favoring to listen to others talk than listen to his own voice drone on. He studied her then, as she took a moment after he invited for her to begin speaking, though Ragnar did attribute to this to nervousness on her part; merely he assumed she was attempting to gather her thoughts, or rather, questions. Her first question brought with it a brief moment of puzzlement as if she asked him why he breathed. In hindsight, it was like asking something as equally hard for him to define. Perhaps Thistle was better at putting words to what it meant to be a ‘Viking’ than he was. It was his way of life. What did it mean to be a Viking? He could easily use the words the packs he raided had used to define them: heathens, demons, et cetera. “It is a name for my people,” He responded, his brow furrowing as he tried, for his subordinate’s behalf, to attempt to think of the ways he could describe it. “In our native tongue we call ourselves Víkingr. It describes my culture,” Ragnar paused, salmon colored tongue sliding across his lips and nose sure that she would wish to know a bit more about his culture.

“I come from the far North, harsh environments with harsher wolves. It is almost a different world down here, softer, perhaps why so many don’t like me. I have not changed my ways of life to accommodate here and I don’t intend too,” He offered Julooke a trademark smirk of his, shrugging his broad shoulders. He had never came with the intention of making others like him, Ragnar wasn’t concerned which such shallow, people pleasing desires that he did not have. “Our reputation infamously proceeds us; we raid, and kill, and take because our resources are limited and it is survival of the fittest up there,” And if that had entirely disgusted Julooke and wholly changed her opinion of him to a bad one, well than, it was what it was. Ragnar was not in the business of romancing himself to make him seem like something he wasn’t because he felt no shame for his way of life. Why did he have too? Only because it didn’t match up with ‘morals’ — something that everyone seemed sure Ragnar (including Ragnar himself) lacked? It was an extremely vague and basic description but Ragnar was finding it hard to put words to his way of life. “I will be teaching my children my native tongue so they speak both fluently, like I do, and I will teach them of my Gods, and my culture.” Ragnar was aware that it would prove to be difficult because they would not be surrounded by the rich and perhaps, brutal culture that Ragnar had grown up in.

Ragnar would not fail Odinn in making his children true Vikings. He had been brought here by the Allfather to rise a Viking pack, and to convert those that were willing to learn the way of life. So far he had fallen behind and internally, the Viking feared that he would lose the Allfather’s favor.

I wrote this post this morning. Walked away. Then re-wrote it. Walked away again. Then re-wrote again. I'm still not happy, but here it is.

Julooke usually had no problem socializing. Like hunting, it seemed to have come naturally to her. She was constantly meeting new wolves and making new friends. She loved it. She sensed a little that Ragnar either didn't care to socialize or wasn't good at it. He seemed to be making an effort to humor her curiosity about him, though. She listened intently. She didn't attempt to repeat the name of his people in their native tongue. She feared she would have butchered it and offend him.

He said the world he grew up in was harsher than the one they currently lived in. She cocked her head a little when he admitted not many wolves like him. He was adamant he would not change his ways, which could have been a stern statement, if not for his smirk. It made Julooke smile. It turned to a frown, however, when he admitted he had to steal, even kill, to survive. The will to live is very strong in wolves- Julooke understood that. However, she could not say she understood how it felt to have to kill someone else in order to live. He was confident his children would learn his culture, as well, and pass it on to the next generation.

Julooke had remained silent as he spoke, her thoughts racing. She took the opportunity now, however, to speak. I've never been one to judge someone else, or how they live, she assured him. I think it sucks you had to live that way, and I can't image how strong you had to be to survive. She probably wouldn't have survived herself. She just didn't have that toughness that would have been required. So, She began. Now that you're here, do you still steal and kill for things? Doing it to survive was one thing. Doing it just because you could was another. He didn't give her the impression he still went around pillaging other packs. He seemed to.... calm for that.

In an effort to lighten the conversation a little, she said, I'm sure your children will enjoy learning about your culture, and passing it on themselves. And, then, with a grin, she said, Maybe I could help you out with that. She didn't know anything about his culture aside what he had just told her, but she was willing to learn it.

Ragnar was too quiet, and though a far cry from shy he was a private creature. Though his time as Jarl of the Cove had opened up Ragnar to the idea of socializing that worked against him. Even as the Head Warden he was terse on what he told strangers and on most occasions did not offer information willingly such as his name; in fact it was because of Pump that most of the wolves knew what his name was, not that they would not have found out eventually. Julooke assured him that he was not judged because of his culture, nor because of what he had done despite that he was a far cry from ashamed of it. As it was, he didn’t see anything wrong with it and that was probably in where most wolves had a problem with the assertive, ambitious Viking; he was unchanging, holding steadfast to his beliefs and culture in a world where those ways were apparently frowned upon. Surprise flitted across Ragnar’s face when Julooke seemed to feel remorse for how he lived. It was not something they shared in and so the Viking remained silent. She did not need to feel pity for his culture, they were proud of who they were but Ragnar suspected that might have not been received well by the woman and so he kept it to himself favoring silence.

Her question was a rational one and the Viking gave her a thoughtful little smirk. Since his arrival here months ago he had not raided or killed, but that was not to say that he didn’t yearn too. It was more of a yearning for raiding than killing he had not often joined in on that unless they were met with retaliation. He had brought the idea up of raiding to Pump but whether she would allow him to train wolves for it, whether anyone would want to raid to begin with giving their ‘morals’ he did not know it would take well with the wolves in the Ridge. She seemed eager to please to his savage side but he did not know how well these wolves would take the idea. If it were up to Ragnar they would have raided already. “No,” But if he was given the chance? There was no contest that his answer would be ‘yes’; however, he was not the kind of leader that needlessly risked the lives of his pack. He had lead the Berserkers too long for that green boy mistake. It was always wise, no matter what, to let the opposed make the first move to see what they would do.

“I think so,” And even if they didn’t Ragnar wasn’t giving them a choice in the matter. They were Vikings, it was their birthright and he would teach them of his ways and his native language. If they chose, when they were older, to go a different path then there was nothing he could do about it at that point but until they were of an age to make decisions for themselves they were stuck with ‘Viking lessons’. Odinn couldn’t punish Ragnar for their adult decisions but he could punish him if Ragnar didn’t try to make them into Vikings. At her offer to assist him with that, the Beta leveled a considering stare at the woman, appraising and assessing her carefully. In this, he saw an opportunity arise and Ragnar wasn’t the type of man to hold back. “You would learn my culture just so you could teach my children?” Either she was desperate to be a caretaker or there was a part of her that was interested. As it was, Ragnar wasn’t sure which it was but he would not turn her away if she was interested in learning. “Ok. If you learn my culture and Gods, I will let you aid in caring for my children.” He made his deal to her, because his Gods were essential and while she did not have to practice the culture or religion herself she would need to learn it to get what she wanted. That was Ragnar’s condition. Of course, if Julooke wanted to be a Viking, at the end of it, he would not deny her the rite of passage but he didn’t hold his breath for that.

One thing at a time, for now, he decided.

The Beta thought about her question before he answered. She had no reason to think he would lie, and therefore trusted that he was telling the truth. Had he said yes, she would have been confused and asked why. She wouldn't have understood the want to take things when the resources were there for wolves to work for themselves. Her feelings could have been considered pity, for she did wish they didn't have to steal to survive. But, she thought no less of them.

She smiled when he agreed with on the pups. At his question, she nodded, Yes, she said easily. I understand it isn't up to me to teach them the culture I know, or I believe. It's depends on what the parents want. I would do that for any parent, she added. It was true. Pups were to be brought up to their parent's culture, in most cases, and Julooke was willing to do that, so long as it didn't interfere with her morals. For example, she wouldn't teach them to go steal from other packs if they could catch their food. And since Ragnar said that wasn't his intention, things should be fine. Her smile brightened considerably when he agreed that, if she learned his Gods and his culture, she could be his children's caretaker. Thank you, Ragnar, she responded. I'll do my best not to let you down. With a wag of tail, and her voice full of enthusiasm, she asked, When can we start? She assumed he would be the one to teach her, since Thistle said she was still learning, and Julooke hadn't met another Viking, to her knowledge.

Julooke’s response was satisfying enough for Ragnar and so he nodded as she explained that she would do the same for any parent. “Good,” Said the Viking with a soft simplicity. He suspected that he did not have to tell her that her willigness to learn his culture and beliefs to be able to teach his children and gain herself the ‘Caretaker’ trade was admirable and would get her far within Horizon Ridge’s ranks. Already it had her in his good books which was a good place to start in the terms of where Ragnar was concerned. He slowly slid down from his reclined position to a familiar sphinx-like one, relaxing a little bit further in Julooke’s presence than he had previously allowed himself. She was a pack mate after all, and she posed no immediate threat to his wife or children as she had been clear to insinuate to him. “I will teach them my native tongue as well,” He informed her as an after thought, though he did not intend to teach Julooke — not that he wouldn’t if she was interested but that it was probably too much to learn just to teach pups. “You do not have to learn it but I will encourage them to use it often among each other and to use the common tongue when speaking to every one else.” It was very similar to what Dagrun and him did when they were around each other. The language was just as much apart of the culture as anything else was.

Ragnar understood the possibility that they could use the ancient Norse to talk back and forth to one another without Julooke (or Thistle) being able to understand most, if not all of what they said. It was an easy way for them to get into trouble; but they were children and they would get into trouble whether they spoke only the common tongue or others. Her smile was large, her tone enthusiastic and the Viking could not help the soft chuckle that rose from his lips. Her enthusiasm was appreciated and her ambition was something that the Viking could not help but admire because he had his own ambitions. It was nice to know that she was eager to get started in proving herself to them, though Ragnar was only half of the leadership she had to prove herself too (and to his chagrin not the important half). He considered her question of when they could get started. “We could start today, if you wish. I won’t overload you on information today, but I could explain in detail the Rite I need to perform and why no one is allowed to see the children until they are a month old. It is an important part of my culture where children are concerned and it is a start.” He had whole generations of knowledge, generations of an entire culture and Gods and beliefs and it was a lot more information than he could tell her, or even attempt to summarize in a couple of hours.

So Ragnar considered it was probably best to start small and with the most relevant thing and work outwards from there.

Do you want to continue this thread or start a new one that happens a little later in the day? I'm good with either, just wasn't sure if you had anything else in mind.

Ragnar explained that the pups would be learning his native language, but that she wasn't required to if she didn't want to. She, too, knew that if she didn't, the pups would be able to communicate with each and not her. They could plot against her, as many pups are apt to do, or say bad things about her and she wouldn't be able to do anything about it. Maybe you could teach me a little? she asked. Even if she didn't know the language as well as they would, it would still help.

She was even more ecstatic that Ragnar said they could begin today, starting with the Rite he would perform, and why no one but the parents were able to see the babies until they were a month old. Sooo, why aren't they allowed to be seen? she asked. She had been inquisitive about it when he mentioned it at her joining, but she didn't think it was proper at the time to ask.

We can continue on with a couple more posts for this one, or this can be the last post for me and then you can post once more and we can have another one or something? lol. Also, you're more than welcome to assume that Ragnar is telling her stuff about his culture, religion and language (I have a website I found that's really helpful that I'll put in my signature soon but there are no actual translators since no one speaks it anymore, lol) behind the scenes too (because there is so much stuff, omg)! :-)

“If you would like,” Ragnar agreed, covertly approving of her ambition and the lengths of which she was willing to go to aid in his (and Thistle’s) teaching of their children. He would not keep her from learning anything that she wanted to learn. “In my culture the month between their birth and their first month of age they are not recognized as a part of the pack, or the family and they have no rights,” There was a struggle to explain it right, to find the words to assist her in understanding. Currently, he hadn’t even spoken the details of why he was so adamant about the Rite to Thistle and why he was so strict on not letting anyone but Thistle and himself near the den. Mostly, it was his ill guided desire to protect her from the cruelties of the culture she had married into, converted into. While Ragnar knew that Thistle understood that he was dangerous and this culture was “cruel and ruthless, savage” there was a part of Ragnar that considered she did not know the extent of it. Of course Ragnar did not share in the thoughts of his culture being cruel expect when he was attempting to consider it from another’s point of view, or unless they outright told him.

He inhaled deeply and let it out. “That means that if someone were to go into the den and kill them it would not be considered murder and I could not do anything.” Of course Ragnar had conveniently let that out when he had been vying for their life at the meeting but that was long in the past and Ragnar felt that it was safe to explain it now. “The Rite will acknowledge them as a part of my family, and the pack and it bestows the rights that come with that to them.” Meaning that after the Rites if someone was to kill them it would be considered murder and Ragnar would be able to seek revenge. “Currently warning everyone to stay away from the den is all I can do and hope that my warning and threat is severe enough.” The Viking offered Julooke a grim twitch of his mouth before he shrugged. It had been that way for many generations and Ragnar was too far rooted into his culture and religion to dare going against traditions.

I went ahead and faded out Julooke, but if Ragnar has a response, we can end with your post instead.

Julooke listened, but she couldn't say with all honestly that she understood why someone wouldn't consider a newborn pup part of the family, and wouldn't even avenge their murder if they were slain before their one month birthday.

For a moment, she looked at Ragnar like he might have been playing a joke on her. But, no, he was serious. I know I don't know you very well, but from what I do know, and from what I've seen thus far, I just can't image you letting anyone get away with harming your children, no matter what their age. She said it softly, matter-of-factly. She didn't want to offend him, or his culture, but it was an honest response from her.

While she believed that really was his culture, she just couldn't believe he, the proud father, would let something like that go. She smiled softly, hoping to relieve any tension their may or may not have been from her words.

When their current "class" was finished, Julooke headed out in the opposite direction of the den, the knowledge she had just received going around and around in her head. She was excited about the possibility of becoming a caretaker.

I'll go ahead and archive this. <3

Julooke wasn’t wrong, not really, Ragnar reflected, he would move Valhalla and the other Great Halls to protect his children, his parental and territorial instincts were just too strong. Yet, no one was above the law — not even the Gods and their culture was clear. Until the Rite was performed by the head of the family, the father, they were not apart of the pack. It was just the way it was for Ragnar. He understood that these wolves did not follow his culture but Ragnar refused to forsake it (in hindsight he did not want to face Odinn’s wrath or be barred from Valhalla). The Viking was silent, reluctant to admit to her that she was correct but also not wanting to try to explain that no matter what he felt, he could not truly stop it (he could try, of course). He watched her go in silence, watching as she disappeared into the distance before his stoic, sentry-like gaze fell back upon the den resuming his watch of it, ears at attention once more as he listened to the sounds of nature and summer, life all around him.