The Hunt (open)

Thora apparently had a knack for stumbling upon hunters in the woods, she thought ruefully. So much for the solitude she'd been hoping for when she set out this morning. She was dressed for a hunt, wearing soft brown trousers, leather boots, and a dark green tunic. She'd arranged the beads braided in her hair so they wouldn't clink together as she walked, and although she carried a quiver of arrows and her bow slung across her back, her favorite ax resting at her hip, she had no intention of seeking out prey. If it happened to find her, well, then so be it, but for today her primary purpose was exploration.

She stepped on a twig to alert the woman to her presence. Thora could tell from her movements the woman was formidable, and she had no desire to be shot by her. Rustling leaves a few leaves so the woman would know exactly where she was coming from, Thora stepped out between two trees, hands held down by her side, palms forward and open to show no weapon was in her hands.

Thora shot her a friendly smile, racking her brain to try to figure out where she had seen this woman before. She'd only been in Kattegat a little while, herself.... The training ground, perhaps? Thora wouldn't be surprised if this woman was a shieldmaiden, too. "Sorry to startle you, I seem to have a knack for surprising hunters lately." Her smile widened, the corners of her light green eyes crinkling as she followed up with an attempt to ease some of the tension in the air. "It's a bad habit. I'm Thora." Hopefully she hadn't disturbed the woman's hunt too much.

She was glad the woman didn't seem too upset at the intrusion. "I thought I'd seen you before, but couldn't remember where. You're right though, it was at the training grounds." She remembered now, and was glad Rhona wasn't upset with her. Thora was tough, born and trained in Uddevalla, but even so she had no desire to cross the woman before her, not right now at least. She would gladly challenge her on the training field next time she saw her there--Thora loved a good spar and thought Rhona would be a good match-up.

She thought for a moment, trying to recall if she'd seen anything noteworthy to pass on. "I did scare a big stag back that way." She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "There were some fox tracks near the stream, too. They're fresh, probably from last night. I was following them when I interrupted you." She didn't add that she'd only been following them from curiosity, just to see where they led. Thora had no intention of shooting anything today, not really. Today she just wanted to learn the woods around Kattegat, so when she did have to hunt, she would have some idea where the game hid.

A bird called nearby and Thora scanned the treetops until she found the little brown creature, perched on a branch a little behind Rhona. "It seems we have some company." She studied the bird for a moment before turning her attention back to the other woman. "Where are the good hunting spots here? I haven't been in Kattegat long enough to know."

Thora was alternating between watching Rhona and watching the little bird perched in the tree above the other woman's shoulder. She did have a soft spot for the singing of birds. Where she was from, birdsong meant springtime, meant foals running alongside their dams and the thaw of spring. And then not long after, it meant her and her brother knocking each other into the dirt, preparing for the raiding season. Spring was a time for fun and training, for being carefree after the farmwork was done. Not like winter, with its constant cold and drudgery.

She listened when Rhona spoke, a rueful smile creeping onto her face. "You can blame it on me anyway. You're the second hunter I've interrupted today." She nodded as Rhona answered her question. Streams were generally good hunting spots, that was true. Maybe here was too close to the town, though, she considered. Kattegat was a large town, much larger than Uddevalla, and she had been a little shocked upon her arrival. Most people seemed to be friendly though, and so settling in wasn't so bad.

She considered Rhona's question a moment before answering, simply trying to think of a way to explain herself. Her reasons for coming to Kattegat were sentimental, and she felt a bit silly saying them out loud. "When I was growing up, my father always said he would have liked to fight for King Ragnar. He died not too long ago. I know it is silly, but since I carry his sword, I thought if I used it to fight for Ragnar's sons, then at least in some way my father would get to fight for Ragnar." She shrugged, looking down as she dug the toe of her boot into the ground, fidgeting.

She looked up quickly at Rhona's offer, smiling. "I look forward to training with you. I've met Ubbe so far, but not Bjorn." She stretched idly, not liking to be still for so long. Thora was one who was constantly moving. "And you? Have you been in Kattegat long? You seem familiar with it." She gave the other shieldmaiden another easy smile, curious about her.

Thora watches Rhona shifting, and she can't help the smile. She recognizes that part of her, the part that can't be still for too long. It's n impulse she's found is common among those who fight in the shield wall. It isn't surprising, since warriors tend to be a certain type of people, share certain beliefs and personality traits. She only offers the other woman a small, sad smile at the mention of her father, shrugging. [b"]My siblingss thought it was silly. They wanted me to stay in Uddevalla with them."[/b] She did miss them. Coming here on her own was hard, but it was something she needed to do. There was more she was running from, but she isn't going to tell Rhona that. She hasn't told anyone, not yet. It's her shame, she wants to keep it to herself a while longer. Maybe in time, she'll tell.

She senses some unspoken tension in the girl, or maybe apprehension, but she does her best to ignore it. Rhona's been here her whole life, watched Kattegat grow into a flourishing trade center. She's probably suspicious of all newcomers. Thora has no idea what pain she may someday uncover, of the reason behind Bjorn's glaring eyes on her whenever he sees her. All she knows is that the eldest prince hates her, but Ubbe has promised to be a friend to her. Time will tell in what ways the three spinners wove her fate. "I've heard Kattegat has grown very much in recent years, it must be strange to see so many new faces." She gives her an easy smile, idly stretching her shoulders. "I would like to stay here for a while. I like Kattegat so far, it is good land and the people are friendly. I do miss my family, though." She wants to ask about Bjorn, to see if she can uncover the meaning behind his dislike of her--she's never even spoken to the man. But she doesn't. It isn't her business to know, and so she shoves her curiosity down. "How long have you been fighting in the shield wall? I was told there are not many shieldmaidens in Kattegat, I'm glad to meet another." She grins, plainly excited.

Thora sees no reason to hide the things she's feeling. She's seldom good at it, anyway, unless she's focusing on it. She tends to be an open person, easy to read, and trusting. Maybe a little too trusting, but she's learned that trust can be a matter of life or death in the shield wall. It's a life she was born to, older brothers thrusting wooden swords into her hands when she's barely old enough to walk. Uddevallan families train their children for the shield wall from early childhood. She grew up fighting with her fists and her wits, then later with sword, shield, and ax. She was taught to be open, to be honest, to be trusting. To be one part of a whole.

Her father and her brothers fought in the shield wall before her. She remembers watching her father with his one good arm, carefully tattooing intricate knotwork around the first scars Eirik and Audun took, and dreaming of the day he would do the same for her. She's wearing long sleeves right now, concealing the long, pink scar that runs the length of her left forearm and the looping swirls of knotwork that surround the scar. She isn't hiding it out of shame, simply because it was cold when she left her house. There's other, smaller, undecorated scars covered by her clothing; the usual for those who stand in the shield wall.

She grins at the mention of her siblings, shrugging. "I do miss them, but I did it for my father's memory. I want to be worthy of his sword, and he greatly admired Ragnar Lothbrok," she admits. There's nothing angry or sad in her bright green eyes, no indication of a terrible fight, for there had been none. The trouble had been within Thora herself, with the fear that grew in her like a poison whenever she thought of her ex-husband. There's no trace of that fear now, only a relaxed, almost lazy smile. She's only telling Rhona what she told her before--about coming here with her father's sword. Anything about her ex-husband she'll keep to herself. The woman seems friendly enough, but she's still a stranger. Thora's beginning to learn that maybe trusting too easily isn't always a good thing. "It is very different here. I was surprised by its size. Uddevalla doesn't care for trade, only for forging weapons and fighting." She grins, tinged with an edge of something almost savage. "It is a good place to be a warrior, although not the best place to be a woman." That's the closest she'll come today to admitting at what she hides in her past, and she hopes Rhona is sharp enough to pick up on it.

She can't help but chuckle when Rhona answers, her bright green eyes glimmering happily. Rhona's words are something Thora feels in her bones: the rightness of knowing where you belong. She feels it, too, about the shield wall, about crossing the wide and empty seas for new lands. "It's been three raiding seasons since I came of age, and for three raiding seasons I've stood in the shield wall. I was born for the shield wall and for fast ships." She smiles at Rhona again, wondering if they fought differently in Kattegat than in Uddevalla. A shield wall is a shield wall, but how do they make warriors here? How do they teach them not to crumple beneath an enemy onslaught, to welcome the killing and the embrace of the Valkyries? How do they fight when the shield splinters on their arm, and perhaps most important of all: why do they fight?