storm born

For @Aarkron

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A storm raged, though seemingly never to come. Above the rolling hillside and up to the heavens, the sky was darkened but rain did not come. Lightning spidered through the sky again and again, sending the hairs to rise on his backside. But it was unlike any storm Ragnar had seen before. It reminded him of when the God, Ghidorah, had been cast from the heavens. Like this, but more. The Gods had something planned...

Whatever it was, the Stormborn had no option but to wait it out just like any other mortal in this plane of existence. He strode the rolling lands with a lazy lope, his muzzle going to work within the purple-pink wildflowers and then to the sky to smell for rain. Strange weather were having, indeed.
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Weeks had gone by since his last time in Dragonford. Though it felt bittersweet to leave what seemed like a chaotic place from the very beginning, there was certain freedom he felt in no longer being tied to someone who only sought trouble.



Travelling North from the shores he found spring had taken its rightful place in the alpines. Though the cold remained constant, the flowers were adamant in blooming despite the weather. Their perfume filled the air and eased the tension he felt from the weather overhead.



Both peaceful and chaotic. 



Something he could only chalk up to the balance that Vendrussel had disturbed. 

Thinking of which, the pale figure of the man on the other side of this ordeal had come into the mismatched gaze of the pale titan. “Ragnar.” He called out, uncertain of why he would other than to continue with good relations between himself and the man. 

“I hope all is well since our last meeting.”

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The storm raged ahead but did not spill its waters. The Stormborn wolf kept moving ahead. The Alpine Moors was a hardy and beautiful place. The grasses and flowers here made of tougher stuff then those of the south, willing to withstand the cold temperatures and still live on. Much as the snowshoe hare which fed on them. Much as the wolf which fed on the hare.

He stops then, only at the sound of his own name. The northern king lifts his head to be met with the great scarred snowy fellow he had met once before south of here. Had he been more like Sindri, bloodborn viking true and through, he would have attacked on sight. After all, @Vendrussel had done the same on their hunting grounds which led to their daughter's demise. Now one of their own tread along their turf. Alas, Ragnar was his own man.

“So it has been.” And it had. Though his relationship with @Ira had since turned sour, instead he was gifted with friendships in a collection of creatures, from tiger to polar bear and had saved the damsel in distress. His relationship to some in Frostchant was closer and he had grown quite fond of the queens of Elysium. And... “No trouble from you and yours for some time, either.” He said with a small and playful smirk.
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“They are no longer mine.” He was quick to correct Ragnar. A bitter taste forming on the paladin's tongue at the reminder of Vendrussel and her gang of troublemakers. “After we spoke I called for a meeting to hear from Vendrussel's lips her side of things, and I disagreed with her words.” Irritated at the thought, hackles twitched with his sour mood rising.

“I don't agree that a crippled yearling's murder is worthy of being called a warrior's death. No matter how strong she may have been.” He spat out with a shimmering glint of fangs. The anger was not directed to Ragnar as blue and gold irises shot in a separate distance away from the Nord man's face. No, he was furious at the excuses he was given.

“As far as I'm concerned, there was no honour as Vendrussel claims to be.”

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“They are no longer mine.” The other snapped out quickly in correction of Ragnar, who's playful expression fell and golden ears turned back. He was silent and listened to Aarkron carefully even as the hairs along his nape began to rise (though his fur was always a tussle in this area).

He had taken Ragnar's words to heart and so did not blindly follow his Leader's comment. He wanted the truth and so it had been given. Ragnar slips out a deep sigh, his own vision turning away with sorrow whilst the other's burned with rage.

“Ynness was a difficult girl, this is true...” He murmured, his icy eyes still cast upon the rolling hills around them, cluttered in a perfume of flora. “The hand which she had been dealt was not an easy one.” And so he explained further. “None of us were happy with the new neighbors, but there was little to stop them from settling with just Sindri and our pups. Ynness knew to not go out to the islands... the sand is not easy for her, nor could she swim. But apparently walking the Brim as well was punishable by death.... or maybe Vendrussel just didn't know how to handle the girl well...” He trailed off. Either way, they suffering for it.
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Honour. It was something that was accepted by all parties involved. Every pack, every culture had a different view on what was considered honourable and it seemed that Aarkron and Vendrussel had their own ideas of what made someone honourable or how they went out from this world to be. Still. He couldn't believe any group to truly think that a yearling could truly grasp what it meant.

“There is no excuse I'd accept.” He said flatly following Ragnarr's words. “Vendrussel thinks she is strong, she started a war with cowardly actions, and I do not follow cowards to war.” He never wanted to participate in a war to begin with. This did not mean he would turn his back on any pack that he chose to follow should one come knocking on their door - but to start one in such a way.

It was unacceptable.

“Perhaps I can assist Northfall? An olive branch between myself and your people...”

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There was no excuse.

Ragnar continued to listen to the man's words carefully. Ragnar did not feel he could take the same actions @Vendrussel had. He could think of why she might have done such a deed but still did not believe himself to be the same type of wolf she were. Still. What was done was done and she would not leave this war without paying for her actions equally.

Puppies being bad a day arguing with the neighbors was one thing. Killing the pups for doing so was vastly different...

Ragnar's ears then perked, his head lifting. He seemed to ponder a moment before answering. “I hope you understand, as formerly Dragonford, it may take some time for trust to be given.” Especially by Sindri and Ghidorah. After all, they had both fought Aarkron once before.

“I say we should try to start anew, though...” He pauses, a playful tilt of his head and he lifts a paw to his chest with a smile on his lips. “Welcome to the ranks of Northfall, I am Ragnar Stormborn.” Setting his footing down then. “This stretch of land here is the Alpine Moors, a part of our hunting ground as well as easy passage to the north."” Ragnar too would need time to trust the wolf but the only way to do that would be to try and push forward in knowing he now wished to be seen as 'friend'.
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“I understand. Trust is earned.” And he had no problems with it. It was not his war after all, but he had chosen his side in the end. Against the one who had started it all, against the individual who he saw as a coward to start and glorify an unnecessary death through thinly veiled excuses of "honour". “I don't intend on mingling much either, for the same reasons.” He shrugged. Though they had a hard time trusting him, it was the same the other way around.

After all, Sindri this time was the one who struck first and chose violence over someone she had never met before. Even if his coat did smell of an enemy pack, the trust he could have had in her was still shattered too that day on the brim. Who's to say she wouldn't do the same again?

So he would keep his distance for a while. Keep to himself and guard the borders when necessary.

With the introduction to both Ragnarr and the field they found themselves in, Aarkron couldn't help but give a smile. Toothy and crooked as his face wasn't the most inviting of things, but he tried. “Just Aarkron. I was reborn once and I can do it again.” He said with the same humour as Ragnarr, his new leader and comrade. “I like it here - maybe this is where I'll spend most of my time while acclimating to Northfall.” After all, he had a love of herbs and plants and anywhere in the tundra /mountains where he could get some was nice.

Especially if it meant some peace from the gawking that would soon come.

At least some aroma therapy will keep his nerves down, and come back at the end of the day with little prey to help feed the pack.

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Ragnar gave a sharp nod of agreement to the man. After all, he would be finding rest within the territory of those who had once attacked him. Those which would have ripped him apart for being aligned to Dragonford. It would take time and effort on both their ends to make the relationship work. Something which Ragnar and Aarkron both were willing to put the labor into, it seemed.

Chuckling at Aarkon having been reborn and saying he could do it again, “Of that I've no doubt.” Ragnar had seen a great many things in this land he had not seen before. Maybe...Maybe @Ynness would return to them, too.

“This is a really good stretch of land. The herds take to it before taking shelter in the forest. I think it would make for a good spot to forage medicines, too.” He commented as he turned his attention off Aarkron and onto the lay of the land. “Take all the time you need. No member of Northfall is bound to its peaks.” He takes a half turn then and pauses, suggesting his leave and give Aarkron his space to adjust.
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