Stavanger Bay foreigner's god

@Ragnar

With the warming of the days, Aesop found himself spending yet more time wandering the unexplored eaves of their packlands.  In preparation for his imminent journey to the Emberwood, he has not gone far afield, and instead lain in relatively idle repose since his return.  That isn't to say he hasn't been pulling his weight, as he has still hunted and gone about his business as usual, just hasn't done much in the way of extra work.

Reticent though he may be to call his wandering patrolling, there is a certain, militaristic efficiency with which he goes about his exploration.  There's a watchfulness to the way he glances at the unfolding spring, and even though he fears another intruder, he is ready for one.  Finally, he decides that it is time to take Thistle Cloud's advice, and tips his nose to the sky to call for Ragnar in his low, steady voice.

A call has risen into the sky for him, demanding his attention away from his Queen wife and their four new children. Irritation swelled within the Viking's chest but dutifully the ex-Jarl rose, rousing himself from their sides and pushing himself from the den he shared with his growing family. If he was not glued to their sides, he was hunting, or border patrolling, but in favor of spending time with his family he had cut back on border patrols. Even still he did not know if the threat that female's scent all over his borders had burned off with time, but thus far they had been fortunate enough to be quiet. It was better this way for the four newborns slumbering against his wife's side made his already high territorial tendencies even more so. The call he had recognized as Aesop though Ragnar had not spent much time in the other male's presence. He knew that Aesop was loyal — or rather had stayed around long enough to earn the Viking's respect in this matter. For this, Ragnar made an effort to temper his irritation as he neared the other male, Aesop's silhouette cutting across the distance.

“Aesop,” The Northerner greeted him with a small incline of his head. It didn't matter that, technically Aesop held a higher rank than Ragnar. The Viking had not deigned to follow his own heirarchy once he stepped down. Likely this was something Thistle only put up with because without him Stavanger Bay would not exist. What fate would have became of Horizon Ridge if he'd not been there to step up in the wake of Pump's death only the Gods knew. He was Stavanger Bay's Patriarch — it was just as much apart of him as he was apart of it. “What can I help you with?” Ragnar inquired, steps slowing to a cease.

He was not made to wait for long.  This was a relief, as he was more nervous than he would dare admit.  All that he had heard of the man was enough to instill doubts, and Aesop, quite arrogantly, wondered how Ragnar felt by being outranked by another male.  He knew better than to ask, and quickly quelled the boasting voice that raised the question.  He could be gracious, though instinct told him to demand respect.  He warred over what was right and what felt good for a moment, then bobbed his head in something like deference.  Call it respect.

"Ragnar," he replied, amused by their uneasy familiarity.  How strange that two wolves could be in the same pack and orbit each other so!  "A pleasure to meet you, y'know, formally.  Wish I had better news for the occasion.  Talked to Thistle about this already, and she told me to pass it on to you, too.  Few weeks back I caught a trespasser here, from that forest in the South of the Wilds.  Seemed like he was actin' alone and just lookin' for info, so I saw him out with a warnin'."  He didn't wait to exchange pleasantries, understanding from Thistle's description that Ragnar was a man of business, of action.  Diplomacy and manners could wait.