| It was only after a brief pause to relieve himself of bodily wastes that Ragnar continued on with his border patrol, his pace nothing short of determined and brisk. Despite the purpose in which he walked, eager to be with his children and start their lessons for the day, Ragnar was still vigilant. His eagerness did not get the best of him, and he allowed for no slip-ups in his strict routine of patrolling, investigating any little scent that he deemed out of the ordinary, pausing along the invisible piss markings to lift his leg and refresh it where he found them lacking. On the borders he was a Warden first, he simply added the titles of ‘Jarl’, ‘Husband’ and ‘Father’ afterwards. The scent of a nearby loner assaulted the scarred Northman’s black, leathery nose, potent over the smell of dampened earth from the rain cloud that had passed over them roughly an hour ago, and the combined musk of the ancient trees that housed majority of the Bay’s lands before they ebbed to a brief patch of grassland that, eventually gave way to the shore.
The yips followed shortly after as Ragnar neared the loner in question observing him with keen and predatory eyes, noting that his coat was gray, offset by the white that was mixed with in it. Upon closer examination Ragnar saw that the male’s eyes were green, and that he was missing a foreleg. For a second longer than was likely polite — the scarred Viking drew near, his head high, tail high over his back in a display of dominance that required no verbal introduction to state that he was the Jarl here, the “Alpha” — Ragnar stared unabashed at the missing limb having determined that it had not been ripped off in battle. There was no scarring only smooth skin, supple muscle soft with evidence of childhood (giving Ragnar a pretty good idea of the boy’s age), and flawless fur. He had been born like that. It was not the first time he had ever seen a wolf missing a leg, and in fact had seen them missing much more. Battle was a brutal and unforgiving mistress which was something the Vikings knew full well. They went into it with their death already accepted and Ragnar had seen and done much worse; seeing a missing limb was next to nothing and didn’t perturb the Viking at all. "You are very young," Ragnar spoke in his quiet, heavily accented voice breaking the silence he had allowed to settle upon them. Not as young as Junior, probably around the same age as Bragi, which meant the Juvenile before him would, likely, be able to take care of himself and would not need a guardian to do things for him. Ragnar had a fairly good idea as to why the young boy was at his borders and nearly let out a sigh. Almost half of the pack was made up of children, only to add more if Julooke and Verrine decided to have a litter of their own. He glanced at the boy and asked, "Why are you at my borders?" Whether the boy was able to make a good case, could swear fealty and alliance to Ragnar and Stavanger Bay and could offer useful skills to the pack or not, Ragnar had already decided that after this boy, regardless of what happened, he would not accept any more juveniles into the Bay or soon they would be overrun by children. |
Ryder gaped at the wolf infront of him for a short moment, before lowering his head to the wolf who was so obviously the pack Alpha. 'You are very young' he heard the wolf say with a heavy accent 'Why are you at my borders'
"I-I seek acceptance into your pack, Sir" He says trying to keep his voice steady, keeping his stance in a submissive position, suddenly self-concious.
| Ragnar watched as his approach caused the boy to take an automatic step back. This was followed shortly after by gaping though Ragnar was quite used to being stared at. A small breeze picked up, in Ragnar’s favor this time and with discreetness he sniffed at it, dissecting the scents it carried. Or rather, the lack thereof. He had intended to ask the boy where his parents were, though he appeared of an age to be able to take care of himself much like Bragi had, but scented no one else that might otherwise be hiding. At least, Ragnar hoped this boy before him could offer useful skills to Stavanger Bay. They already had a juvenile who appeared to have been tortured by whomever she had fled to Stavanger Bay to get away from. Ragnar hadn’t decided what to do with her yet but had a feeling that Nerian, despite her continued status as his slave, would not let the child go without some kind of protest; having the trouble on the woman front as Ragnar currently was he was inclined to give Nerian whatever she wanted just to make her happy. So that he could make one of ‘his women’ happy, at least. The girls were much easier to pacify. Gyda was contented with being a homebody and chewing the bones he brought her and Junior enjoyed her ‘Shieldmaiden’ lessons with him.
It came about, soon enough, why the boy was at Stavanger Bay’s borders proving Ragnar’s suspicions about ‘why’ correct. Ragnar paid little mind to the child’s trepidation towards him, having long since realized he cut an intimidating figure even before he’d elected to have scars carved into his face. The nicks on his muzzle, as was the other scars he bore, however, were not intentional and had been earned. "What is your name; what skills can you offer Stavanger Bay?" Ragnar inquired, figuring that for now they were the most important questions to be addressed, currently. |
| Ragnar gave the boy — Ryder as he had introduced himself — his rapt attention when he began to spoke, listening to what budding skills he had to offer. Tracking was a natural part of their daily lives as wolves but some were better at it than others, Ragnar knew. He was as an adept tracker as any wolf was likely to be but Ragnar was an explorer, a conqueror and a work in progress diplomat. Diplomacy was not his favorite subject if only because he very much would rather have the Bay reclusive and not have to drag himself off to another wolf’s lands to talk peace. He knew the word well enough, craved it as much as any weary, blood sick creature yet, at the same time, he saw it for the falsity it was. Peace was an illusion. It didn’t last and never would because there were always wolves, wolves like Ragnar for instance, that would upset it with their beliefs or their actions. Still, he supposed tracking was a foot in the right direction for another, potential Outrider. There were many other aspects that made up the Trade that the boy would need to be taught but Ragnar was already planning throwing Ryder and Bragi together to work on it together since
"It can be done," Ragnar told him letting his gaze touch where the boy’s fourth leg should have been. "It will not be easy, and you may not be as good as a wolf with all four legs but it is not impossible." Most cases of missing limbs he had ever came across had been torn off in battle but he suspected the training was no different. "I am Ragnar and this pack is called Stavanger Bay. I am it’s Jarl…or Alpha." Whichever it was he preferred to call him. "Do you swear fealty and alliance to me and to the other members of this pack?" Ragnar inquired, guessing what the knee-jerk reaction would be; that was ok because typically their vows were tested in some way or another and if they could not keep their promise of loyalty to Ragnar and Stavanger Bay then they had no place among it’s ranks. |
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| The scarred Scandinavian nodded his head towards the boy, a gesture of acknowledgment when Ryder swore in his fealty and alliance to Ragnar and to the pack. "Good. It is expected that everyone do their part in the pack, even the children train in their desired apprenticeships," Ragnar told him giving pause for a moment before adding, "We have no use for dead weight and I will have no hesitation in getting rid of it." It was the only warning Ryder was going to get. Not that Ragnar pinned him as dead weight or anything, rather, this was similar to what he said to every wolf who sought to join his Viking pack. Ragnar did not think it was unfair that he gave his all for the Bay and simply asked his subordinates to reciprocate. "I am the Head Warden and though we do not have official warriors yet several of us are seasoned fighters. I have lived and breathed raids and battles my entire life." And as Ragnar was currently trying to teach Junior: warriors and wardens were an extension of the same arm, and a pack needed defense just as much as it needed offense.
"Your tracking skills could be useful either to the Outrider trade or the Gameskeeper. Whichever you decide to go with is your own choice. If it’s hunting you’re interested in I advise you to seek Julooke. If it is Outriding, Verrine or I could teach you. Bragi, too. Bragi is young, about your age but he is a skilled Berserker …fighter and explorer." Ragnar couldn’t give the boy anything until he proved he deserved it but he did not doubt that what he said was true. He knew the training regime of Odinn’s Cove well, but he also knew Bragi’s mother. "Come, I will give you a tour and answer any questions you might have." He gestured towards the forest with his muzzle. |
| "Good." Was all the Viking had to offer their newest member in a satisfied and somehow softly gruff tone as he led the way into the Bay’s forest. Having nothing else to say, Ragnar had fallen for the most part silent, offering up answers as questions came along, breaking his silence otherwise only to point out things he thought of interest in Stavanger Bay’s territory. |