<br><i>wave after wave,</i>
<br>wave after wave.</font>
Surra had overheard rumors about this new territory Ragnar had discovered. At first he was a little resistant to the idea of moving - change was not the steady young male's favorite thing in the world, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. The death of Pump had really shaken up the pack, especially since it had been at the paws of a bear. Apparently this bear was not new to the territory, but it's bad intentions were - and with still-young pups to worry about, he completely understood Ragnar's motive to move. Plus, Surra had heard a little about the island pack. Though he was concerned that it would seem as if the wolves of the ridge were running from a nearby pack rather than defend their territory, Surra also knew that losing more lives to a pack war would do them no good.
But, still, Surra wanted to see where they would be going. He spent the morning, starting pre-dawn, trotting down the coast, feeling the sand beneath his paws and listening to the waves.
By midday, the grey-brown male was approaching a massive cliff jutting out into the ocean. He could faintly smell Ridge wolves as their paths converged heading through an arch that holed out a path through the middle of the cliff face. As he passed beneath it, his calm blue eyes studied the rock - and he felt a slight chill run down his spine in awe of it. He had always been very aware of the beauty and power in nature, and instantly began to love this new place - the cliffs that framed it, the beach rising into grass plains into forests that climbed up the sides of hills, eventually meeting the height of the cliffs as they curled back inland. Just on the other side of the arch, Surra stood, his eyes slowly roaming across the land, taking it all in for the first time.
Ragnar’s time was adequately divided between the two lands, working without little rest to claim the Bay so the pack could move as a collective whole or in individual groups …Ragnar wasn’t sure what they had planned individually so long as they all ended up in the Bay at the end of the day; while tending to his leadership duties at the Ridge, trying to squeeze in some time to spend with his children who suffered the most in this ordeal. Being abruptly promoted with Pump’s death and finding himself the sole leader, worrying about the bear — when it was going to strike again — and as he always did keeping his eye on the Isle wolves and now working to claim the Bay as he worked hard to make the transition of relocating as smooth as possible for the pack left little time with the Loðbrók children, lately. He had vowed to himself that he would make it up to them once everyone was contently settled in Stavanger Bay, though he had yet to voice the promise to the three of them for the simple of sake of not being able to, for whatever reason, keep it.
He would carve out some time for them once everything was smoothed over and the pack as a whole was situated. Besides it was only then that he would be able to truly enjoy spending time with his rugrats something he had not done in quite some time simply because of the worries that had been plaguing him ever since the Isle wolves had parked their bums on the island right at Horizon Ridge’s doorstep.
The thought of spending much needed time with his children brought a soft smile to the Viking’s scarred face but there would be plenty of time for enjoyments of fatherhood later. As of now, he knew, his duties as alpha came first. The borders had began to take shape nicely with the help of the others but Ragnar kept re-enforcing them despite that the message was clear enough to all who would come the Bay’s way. It was claimed land, and while it was a little empty of it’s new tenants it soon would be teeming with the life of the pack that worked, currently, to inhabit it. He had paused in his border marking to replenish the fluids he had lost and take a jog in the shallows of the sea to cool himself off. A figure came into view out the corner of the Viking’s eye and he relaxed as immediately as he had tensed: it was only Surra. He loped out of the surf and shook his coat free of the water that it had absorbed though his coat clung close to his body, wet as it was and stuck in haphazard spikes from the sticky salt of the water as he approached his subordinate.
<br><i>wave after wave,</i>
<br>wave after wave.</font>
“Come to help mark the borders?” Surra returned Ragnar's coy smirk with a half-smile of his own and a tip of his head. "My main motive was, admittedly, pure curiosity. But if you would like my help, I would be honored," A slight breeze off the ocean turned into a gust as it traveled through the archway behind him, ruffling his fur the wrong way. Surra shook himself to re-settle his fur, especially the dark mane down his neck, and gestured with his muzzle back towards the arch with a light chuckle. "It is a beautiful place, Ragnar. The first feature I have come across has already left me in awe." His calm blue eyes were bright, reflecting the honesty of his words. "Stavanger Bay, yes? That is what you have chosen to name it? Does it come from your native tongue?"
Sand curved to the shape of Ragnar’s paws, squishing between his toes as he made his way towards Surra, glad to see the other male here. As far as Ragnar was aware — from the scents at any rate — everyone had made it here except for Sköll and the children (this included his sister, Hati, who he still considered a child). The last time he had seen Surra his paws had been stained with Pump’s blood and he had answered Ragnar’s howl with his appearance, which had been good for the Viking because he did not, at the time, want to have to get Thistle back to help him take care of the body.
It was, admittedly, the first time Ragnar had ever had to lay down his scent into the form of a border, making it where there had not been a border for a long time, if at all. He had inherited the Cove in an eerily similar manner to the way he had inherited the Ridge (except he hadn’t killed Pump where as he had killed Björn). It was a disturbing trend he hopes he did not have to repeat again.
Ragnar smiled at Surra when his subordinate commented on the beauty of the Bay and Ragnar took a moment to glimpse around again, to take it all in as he had when he had first followed the raven to it. It was a magnificent sight, safe and sustainable for their pack and for any numbers they might grow too. It was a nice place to raise children, as well…not just for him and Thistle but for any other mates that might come to be.
<br><i>wave after wave,</i>
<br>wave after wave.</font>
Surra's thoughts briefly drifted to the idea of starting over. The day of Pump's death he had realized how poorly he had done at being a member of the pack socially. He had done his duties, but had too easily remained in his habit of being alone. It was almost symbolic how he had never found himself a den back at the Ridge. He wasn't used to settling in one place, to being social with those around him. Now, in this new place, Surra hoped that in a small way he could also start over and be a better member to the pack than he had been.
“It is wealthy with life,” Ragnar's words interrupted Surra's thoughts. The grey-brown male nodded, his eyes drifting out to the territory. It took Surra a brief moment to follow behind the silver male, but soon he fell in step with him as he described the etymology of the name of the bay. "...We are different but we are one family." Surra nodded at Ragnar's words, knowing the truth of it and, admittedly, liking the sound of being one family. He paused to lift a leg and add a bit of his scent to the border before replying. "Speaking of family," Surra turned his calm blue eyes to Ragnar as he fell in step with him again. "How are your children? They are well and healthy, I hope?"
Ragnar smiled softly when he heard Surra’s soft chuckle, glad that he could be humorous when he wanted to be. He was so serious most of the time it wouldn’t have surprised Ragnar if all of his subordinates thought he was incapable of jesting. As it was the Viking wouldn’t have held it against them if they had even suggested it to him. It wasn’t as if he could blame anyone for thinking he didn’t even know how to crack a smile. It was easier now, he found, smiling and joking around, out here in Stavanger Bay where there was no worry of a bear out for the blood of wolves, or a pack encroaching horrendously on their doorstep. Of course, those worries could not be entirely shucked by Ragnar …they couldn’t be until the entire pack was moved to the Bay. The tension hadn’t entirely left the Viking’s hardened muscles but it was not as bad as it had been days previous.
Ragnar kept pace with the other man easily as they moved along the borders, pausing when was appropriate for Surra to add his own mark to their borders but Ragnar kept his eyes trained on the path before them, though looking at it was quite unnecessary because it wasn’t as if he could see it and while it was invisible it was definitely there, nevertheless. Surra could have easily found it on his own, and it would be a bit for the water Ragnar had consumed to work its way to his urinary tract but he was the Alpha (and Head Warden besides) and he felt like it was his job to be the overseer. Not that he thought Surra would goof off or anything. Besides, it was a rare opportunity to get to know the still in a way stranger of a man.
Ears twitched when he asked of Ragnar’s children and the Viking inhaled deeply and let it out.
<br><i>wave after wave,</i>
<br>wave after wave.</font>
Surra walked at a strong pace next to his Alpha. He found himself enjoying the company of another man who spoke with purpose rather than just to hear his own voice. Surra didn't mind being around talkativeness every now and then - he was fairly good at absorbing the energy, at least for some time. But eventually he would always need quiet again, to recharge himself.
“Very well and healthy, yes,” Ragnar said after an audibly deep breath. Surra nodded with a slight smile, happy to hear it. “And trouble.” Surra let out a light snort of laughter, seeing a very typical look of fatherhood on the Alpha's face. "I'm sure you can expect nothing less from pups of their age," Surra said with a lightness in his voice. He paused again to mark another tree with his scent, and then continued forward, the soft smile lingering on his face. "I would very much like to meet them, soon. With your consent of course." If Surra had one soft spot, it was children. Their's was an energy he loved to absorb, though he wasn't the best caretaker in the world, if only because he wasn't the best at returning their energy in play. "And your wife? Is she well? I have been meaning to formally introduce myself to her for quite some time, but did not want to take her away from the children."
Ragnar walked amiably, not wanting Surra to feel as if he was rushing him to hurry up and urinate along it, knowing that everyone marked them at their own pace and found that, with the absence of the tension that plagued him awake and slumbering on the Ridge, he did not mind taking it easy here. Thus far, the lands proved to be serene. There were no other packs in the immediate area to pose as annoying intrusions and, as far as Ragnar could tell, no murderous bears out for retribution. They should have killed it when Pump had found it tearing apart their carefully constructed caches. They hadn’t because…only two of them had answered Pump’s call…Ragnar and Gavriil, of whom Ragnar warred with himself over. Instinctively he found the other man to be a traitor to the pack by just disappearing, no one had seen hide or hair of him for over two weeks and it wasn’t as if he had been given orders to go anywhere, or had even bothered to let Ragnar or Pump know where he was going. He was just gone. The betrayal stung Ragnar like the callous lash of a whip against his bare flesh, the skin yawning wide from the force of impact. Gavriil had fought beside them, spoken of a great love he had for Pump and yet he left them. Where was his grand love for her when she lay dying, broken on the beach? It had not been Gavriil by her side as she drew her last breath but Ragnar who loved her in an admired, strictly platonic way.
He felt, in some small way, that he had kept his promise to her until the very end: he had been by her side, loyally and knew his loyalty to and respect for her still ran true in death. Yet, the Northman did not grieve any more than he had already done when he had witnessed her death. It was in his culture to celebrate death even if the sorrow of it rang true to the selfish part of his being. He had mourned and celebrated that Odinn had taken her, who was worthy, to Valhalla despite that his hybrid leader had not shared his faith.
Perhaps it was Ragnar’s own way of comforting himself because, in truth, he wasn’t sure what happened to the non-believers. He assumed they went to Valhalla, or which ever Hall best served them because he had knowing else to go off of and didn’t want to believe anything else.
Surra’s voice broke the Viking out of his wandering and even bitter thoughts jolting Ragnar’s recollection: they were speaking of his children and being trouble.
<br><i>wave after wave,</i>
<br>wave after wave.</font>
A moment later a small creek running diagonally down the hill came into view. About time, too - the young male needed to replenish his fluids, as well. Surra's blue eyes turned back to Ragnar as he spoke again of the children, giving his permission for the younger male to meet them. “I feel it is fair to warn you they are very loud and obnoxious, and they may bite,” Surra chuckled again, flicking an ear back in a gesture that he didn't expect much less. "I wouldn't mind," he said through his chuckle, stepping forward to the creek.
Surra crouched down at the stream's edge, lapping the cool water. He lifted his head again when he heard Ragnar murmur, “I am sure she will like that, she is a social little thing,” Surra nodded, hearing the underlying love in the man's tone. It wasn't something he thought about often, but Surra knew in the back of his mind that in the next year or so, he wouldn't mind finding love, settling down and having children of his own. He didn't believe in forcing it, so he wasn't about to go actively seeking it, but... it was something that he wanted for himself, one day, when the time was right. "I'm assuming she still spends most of her time back at the Ridge with the children?" Surra thought he recognized her scent, faintly, in Stavanger Bay, but there hadn't been any hint that the children had yet moved. He decided that, upon his return to the Ridge, he would catch some small game as a token to bring to her and introduce himself. Then, perhaps, he might see the children there as well.
For a while there was only silence between them, comfortable for Ragnar who did not usually become very verbose unless the situation called for. The Viking did not feel the need to fill every silence with entirely meaningless and empty chatter. Ragnar, for the most part, tended to be a quiet man, mostly because he was always thinking about something, regardless of if it pertained to the conversation he was holding with another or not. Surra admitted when Ragnar gave his warning regarding the Loðbrók children, that he wouldn’t mind their loudness, obnoxious-ness, or their tendency to bite everything they could sink their little milk teeth into, including but not limited to, ears, legs, paws, tails, and scruffs if allowed to reach that. Ein, especially with the scruff. Perhaps the eldest son thought it was retribution for all the times he had been grasped by it.
Ragnar gave them bones to chew but he suspected the need to chew on warm and furry things was their hunting instincts kicking in, being honed by what was available to them: their parents, their sitters, and each other. The males paused when they reached the stream and Ragnar took a moment to lap at the cool, crisp and inviting water himself, letting the cool liquid splash from his tongue into his mouth, rejuvenating him and hopefully soon his bladder. It was annoying when there was still work to be done and he couldn’t produce urine enough to keep up with it.
<br><i>wave after wave,</i>
<br>wave after wave.</font>
Surra could feel the cool water running the last of it's way down his throat and sloshing into his belly, but he knew that he only had one stop left in him before he would have to take a break to allow the water to work it's way to the end of the system - or else, he would end up feeling how he was sure Ragnar felt when they first began their walk, as if he would not be able to relieve himself for a month. He knew he would have to take his leave soon - and plus, a youthful itch to explore was beginning to plague him again.
Surra chuckled at Ragnar's description of Ein's retribution, shaking his head at the thought. “More or less everything is fair game though.” Surra's head shake turned into a nod, and he responded good naturedly, "I understand, I understand. Poor little guy. I'll try not to get on his bad side!"
There was a pause as Ragnar also stopped to drink, and then he responded to Surra's question. "She gets out more now that the children are older and we have sitters, Julooke and my foster son, Sköll." Surra nodded, but he inwardly questioned his plans to visit her - maybe she wouldn't be at the Ridge when he returned to visit. 'Ah well', the young male thought to himself. 'If not her, I still also have to meet Julooke and Sköll'. He felt, for a brief moment, overwhelmed by the amount of his pack he still needed to formally meet, but quickly calmed himself. He knew he was going to start working on that, now, and he would be familiar with them all soon enough. Time was what he needed, not nervousness.
"Excuse me a moment," Surra said off-handedly, and made the small leap to the other side of the creek, trotting to the next tree, where he relieved the last of his bladder. Then he turned and trotted back to the creek's edge, and dipped his head to Ragnar. "I'm afraid if I do much more at the moment, I will not be able to relieve myself for a month either," he said with a coy smile. "If you don't mind, my curiosity is also starting to get the best of me, and I'd like to explore around a little bit before returning to the Ridge for the night." He paused for a moment, considering, before allowing himself to speak genuinely. "Thank you for the good conversation, Ragnar."
Ragnar offered Surra a rare, genuine smile when he spoke of not getting on Ein’s bad side. In reality, that did not sound like all that bad of an idea. While Ragnar wouldn’t have said that their First Born had a temper, per say, he was without a doubt the bossiest in true ‘First Born Syndrome’.