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With the knowledge that he was taking yet another wolf from Majesty’s pack left the Viking feeling anxious sure, that at some point, he would find out and come for retribution. Beric had yet to come find him in Stavanger Bay but he had asked for time and in confidence Ragnar had given it expecting the secret of their meeting to be kept just as he intended to keep it from Julooke and Verrine whom Beric wished to surprise. In reality, it wasn’t as if Ragnar shouldered the sole blame of it. Sure, he had made the offer which in and of itself had been harmless. He hadn’t persuaded or cajoled Beric into accepting it, hadn’t forced him at the point of his teeth, or threatened. Everyone had a choice. Ragnar would never take those choices away from members or potential members. Yet, if Majesty had ever found out that both Sköll and Beric had fled to Horizon Ridge …or what would soon be Stavanger Bay Ragnar wouldn’t have been offended by deserved ire. If the tables had been turned, he would have felt the same way. At the end though, life wasn’t nearly as complicated as men tended to make it. You had to lie in the bed that you made; and no one, no matter how friendly and compassionate, or assertive and callous was granted an exception.
The basis of the Vikings’ stories taught them that as children and served to remind them as adults. Even Gods suffered consequences for their actions. Odinn had desired knowledge and had to not only hang himself from Yggdrasil but also had surrender an eye to get what he wanted. Likewise, Ragnar had to accept that one day retribution might come knocking at their door despite that he just wanted to be away from the Isle wolves. The Viking, though, had no intentions of apologizing for bringing Sköll where he would be more useful, neither would he apologize for offering Beric a home among his family. Being a family oriented man himself, Ragnar understood the desire to want to be near them and he would not deny even his enemies a chance to prove themselves otherwise. He was a harsh judge of character but he at least had that he was nothing if not a fair leader who cared about his pack and would protect them to his last, dying breath if it came to that going for him. It was a small redeeming quality in a sea of what was likely horrible qualities.
The truth was, Ragnar had grown weary; weary and blood sick. He was tired of always watching his back, tired of suspicion and tension that drummed through his muscles every second he was in Horizon Ridge. He just wanted his pack to flourish, to be able to hunt and live in peace. Which made him a hypocrite, sure, considering he raided and would raid again if he thought it was necessary. Admittedly, his weariness and blood sickness made the prospect of raiding lack the spark of excitement that it normally held for the Viking but he gathered once he got the pack relocated and settled in over the months it would return. For now, however, it was extinguished.
Still, Ragnar worked as hard as ever, marking the borders, as he was currently in the process of doing, waiting for word of or from Beric as he did so. Leg lowered from the tree he’d been marking, brushing his fur against the thick bark, tough as boiled leather, before he moved on, padding a few feet down the line only to lift his leg again and repeat the process lost in his contemplation, though his ears were alert all the while.
She squatted, her urine soaking into the ground to catch the scent, and then moved on to the next spot. Her tail waved high in the air, and her ears were perked as she pranced along, obviously happy and cheerful. And then she spotted something. Her eyes widened, and her gaze looked around to see if there were any other wolves present. Nope, no one here. She stepped lightly to the mud puddle, her tail wagging in excitement. It had been a while since she had gone sliding through one, and now was as good a time as any. Retracing her steps, she gave herself room for a long start. Then, she ran towards the mud, intentionally going down as soon as she hit it, and her body slid through. She stood, ran a little ways, and then did it all over again. By the time she was done, her whole body was caked in mud, and she was loving it. It was, after all, a really good way to stay cool in the heat.
Deciding she was finished, she was just about to continue her patrols when she caught Ragnar's scent. Tail wagging behind her, she followed it until she found him. Hey, Ragnar. Anything interesting going on? she asked.
At the sound of Julooke’s voice, reaching out in the distance between them to touch upon the little bones of his inner ears, greeted him the Viking turned and gave a start, his brow furrowed in curiosity and contemplation as his eyes of Caribbean ice took in her body. The woman was coated in mud; given that it was still a dark brown and sleek, glistening with moisture like the oil of birds’ feathers, he garnered that it was still fresh mud. Though her face failed to be entirely covered in it, there was evidence from where it had splashed up upon the fur there in the splattering of upon her fur. For a second, her words were disregarded as Ragnar tried to puzzle it out for himself how she had gotten to entirely caked in mud. It took him a few moments of studying her to come to the conclusion she must have slid through if only because her fur was smoothed back, laying neatly from away from her head and towards her tail as it would have if she had, indeed, slid through it.
A coy smirked toyed at the edges of the Viking’s lips in amusement as he regarded her with silent observation.
It seemed it was routine today, and nothing exciting was going on, which was a good thing. Ragnar stated he was just marking borders. I was doing that before I was attacked by the mud, she said, grinning. I can tag along and help you, if you want, she offered. It was more fun doing it with someone than alone.
Ragnar, despite how it might have initially seemed, had not been judging Julooke’s ability to let loose and have fun in a way that the callous Viking had nearly forgotten. In fact, it was befitting of her and a good trait to have considering she yearned to be a Caretaker for the pack. He encouraged her to go for the three trade titles she wished for, but even if she never got to that point she already knew she was welcome to watch his children now that the ritual had been performed. In fact, between Sköll and Julooke it was giving Ragnar and Thistle more time to be a couple and enjoy the intimacy of one another, secluded and far from prying ears even if their time spent together was nothing more than conversation (which most of the time it was just that: conversation). As it was, Ragnar and Thistle had never really properly courted for she had already been pregnant when he had taken her as his mate and she had accepted, he suspected at first because the children needed a father and he was offering it to her because he had consummated with her even if it had been after Crete and accordingly felt some duty of responsibility on the off chance that they children were of his seed, and because the idea of her being mates with at the time Kennedy or Gavriil had nearly drove him mad with jealousy.
He accepted her proposal to join him, and she happily trotted along side him, getting down to business, at least for the moment. Every several feet, she would squat and mark the spot, then move on to the next. It was tedious work, and boring, but it had to be done to warn any strangers that might lurk nearby, as Ragnar explained. They'll have plenty of warning to not cross the borders, she commented. Odinn help them if they come in anyways, she said with a smile. Ragnar would no doubt rip them to shreds, with the help of Verrine. Oh! she said suddenly, remembering something. I told Verrine I loved him, and he said he loved me, too! Her voice was full of excitement as she pranced to the side a little, happy that she had finally gotten it out, and he returned her feelings! The mud dripped off of her at the movement, leaving a trail behind her.
Predatory eyes of Caribbean ice narrowed as he watched Julooke slyly move closer to him, the grin that tugged at his subordinate’s lips where it danced devilishly, giving way to her intentions before she even spoke of it. The Viking held his ground as she slowly stalked closer to him, watching as her muscles pulled taunt beneath her caked coat, poised to spring before she lunged at him. Ragnar supposed he could have dodged it if he had cared too, but he did not see the harm in letting Julooke have her fun with him. The smear of the cool mud, a transition from her body onto his as they slid against one another (though he remained good naturedly still), was sticky and messy and he glimpsed where she left a smear track against his unscarred side and let out a snort of cool amusement.
Not forgetting his original purpose as he allowed Julooke to have her fun with him, he lifted his leg and marked another tree, ears cupped forth to pick up anything his subordinate might have spoken to him while he concentrated on urinating on the tree.
He corrected her that Odinn would not be on the trespasser's side, and she nodded. You're right, she said. He would be cheering you on. She gave a small laugh, even though she knew the topic was a little morbid. She had no doubt that Ragnar would attack anyone who trespassed, and that was one of the reasons she felt so safe in this pack. Between him and Verrine, she didn't think any trespasser would survive to see the world outside these borders again.
Ragnar gave her an I-told-you-so, but she knew it was in good nature and smiled, Yes, you and Thistle both did. I'm glad I listened. She was deliriously happy now that their feelings were out in the open. She nodded quickly when he asked if they were mates, We are! He asked me right after he told me he loved me. The smile on her face would not go away, and her voice had a romantic wispiness to it, remembering the moment she said yes to Verrine. The next question, however, caught her a little off guard, and her face showed it. Uhhh, I don't know... Well, I mean, I do want to have pups with Verrine, I'm just not sure when, she said honestly. She didn't think the season was too late, but wasn't sure if Ragnar would give permission since they were in the middle of a move. What would be your thoughts on it? She was trying to gauge whether or not puppies were even possible at this point, or if they shouldn't even think about it until next year.
A low chuckle answered the laughter of Julooke as it rang through the ancient catacombs of forest whose fringes they laid claim too in between their boughs of general fun. It was a strange thing, surely, to see Ragnar having fun with his subordinates but why not? He wasn’t made of stone, after all. He was assertive, his edges were as sharp and cutting as the axe his human counterpart had once wielded, territorial, assertive, feral, savage and callous when it came to the welfare of wolves outside of his pack…but for Ragnar that was just apart of his survival instincts. He didn’t act any different because he didn’t know any different (and didn’t care too). Despite how it seemed Ragnar Loðbrók wasn’t heartless and enjoyed the simple pleasures of life just as any other wolf did. He enjoyed being with his wife and spending time with his children just as much as he enjoyed being with his pack-mates and in this case, indulging Julooke’s desire to play with him. It was silly but it was enjoyable and he was glad to be feeling something other than the building tension he outside of the Bay’s borders.
Ragnar gave the woman a soft smile when she spoke that Odinn would be cheering him on and wondered if, indeed, it was true. Did Odinn care about the welfare of one pack? Surely not, considering he was a God and he had more important things to do with his time. Like prepare his army and himself for Ragnarök. Ragnar snorted softly at the romanticism in her voice, though it was an amused, joyful sound as opposed to a mocking one. If he had met her before Thistle, before he realized that the infamous Libertine of Odinn’s Cove could, in fact, love a woman with every fiber that made up his entire being, he would have scoffed at the talk of love. Until he had actually happened to him: falling in love; Ragnar hadn’t believed that it actually existed …or at least not for him.
The Alpha waited patiently as she explained that she did want to have pups with Verrine but that she wasn’t sure when. It bizarrely made him think of Thistle and how unknowing his wife had been on the subject of pregnancy and Ragnar let out a soft sigh.
Julooke couldn't hold back the giggle when Ragnar seemed to want to explain the birds and the bees to her. I know that, she playfully responded. I still haven't gone into heat this year yet, so there might be an opportunity soon to have pups this year, she admitted. It was a little late for her as far as her heat went, and she wasn't sure what that meant. Was it normal? It wasn't a question she wanted to ask Ragnar; she'd rather ask another female, such as Thistle, maybe. She and Ragnar were close, but he was a father-figure, and talking female things to him just felt a little awkward. She smiled when he mentioned his own pups, It would nice for them to grow up together. Imagine what next year would be like with all of them turning one, she responded. Sooo, does that mean Verrine and I have permission to have pups this year, if I do go into heat? Part of her felt bad for asking permission to have pups without having spoken to Verrine first, but the opportunity had presented itself, and she didn't want to pass it up.
Technically, though it only occurred to Ragnar after words, Verrine and Julooke were Stavanger Bay’s first mated pair because though it was a relocation of the wolves of Horizon Ridge it was a new start, a new pack in the image that Ragnar saw rather the re-creation of what Aklhut or even Pump had made. It also reminded Ragnar that he had a recruit to gather up. While he had not ever considered that he would achieve his own pack through Pump’s death — it was definitely not the ideal way — it had happened and he had to, at least, go pay Avyo a visit to see if the man still held an interest or not. Ragnar wasn’t entirely sure where he’d gone to bide his time but there were only so many packs in the Wilds. Unless, of course, he had decided not to wait after all and moved on. Julooke’s giggle, presumably borne from his blunt way of explaining the ‘birds and bees’, broke the Viking from his thoughts wondering if, maybe, he had embarrassed her. He didn’t find it embarrassing if only because he had partaken in the act many times in his short span of life thus far and for his culture it was natural as breathing. No one was really embarrassed by it.
She chuckled at the thought of having numerous litters come into their adulthood all at once next year. It would be quite interesting for the rest of the pack, that was for sure. Adolescents could be a handful and it would take all of the adults to keep them in line. Still, it would interesting for them to grow up with another litter in the pack. Ragnar didn't seem to need to think twice about giving them permission to have them this year, if the couple chose to. Julooke smiled, Thanks. I'll talk to Verrine and let you know what we decide, she responded. She couldn't wait to tell Thistle! And, of course, Verrine, too!
Through their conversation, Julooke had been vigilant about marking the borders of the territory with Ragnar. She was excited about this new home, and couldn't wait to go exploring and find a proper den with Verrine. Their little hole-in-the-tree in Horizon Ridge was cozy, but they needed something with a bit more room, especially if they decided to have pups.
There was a brief moment, as eyes of Caribbean eyes watched Julooke shake her head, that perhaps he was giving her too much detail. Possibly more than was needed. Admittedly, since he wasn’t embarrassed by it his mind didn’t have a ‘Stop Speaking Ragnar’ warning button to be pressed.
Ragnar nodded when she said that she would speak with Verrine about it, but spoke nothing more about the matter figuring there was nothing left to say. His well wishes had been given, his permission to breed had been given for the year if they chose to take it, and that was about it, as far as he was concerned. It reminded him that a new rendezvous den would need to be dug to fit his rapidly growing children as well as Thistle and him, but also a birthing den, too, for Thistle in the future, or any couple who would need it. There was much to do but on the priority list getting them to Stavanger Bay to stay was at the top of it. Dens could be dug once they were settled in and right now he needed to focus upon what Julooke and him were doing currently: claiming it. There would be plenty of time for settling in after the fact. The Viking had remained silent as they worked on, content and comfortable with it as the mud streak she had left on him began to dry and harden against the tendrils of fur it caked.
For now, there was business to be done and borders to be checked. Her tail wagged as they walked together in a comfortable silence. Until maybe she decided to try and pounce him again. Maybe she would lure him to the lake and try to push him in. They needed to wash the mud off, after all.