 you don't need wings to be an angel She dipped her head slightly in acknowledgement to his apology. She hadn't meant to make him feel guilty, but she had no way of expressing an apology... for an apology? No. She'd just sound idiotic. Instead she settled for the dip of the head that signified forgiveness and acceptance. Of course, there was nothing to forgive as she hadn't been at all offended, but it was the best she could think of. She glanced at him and seemed to suddenly notice his half-smile; it sent a jolt to her heart and she quickly looked away again. Stop it, you idiot, she chastised herself. Stop being a soppy fool. You are a warrior of the North. Stop it. She spent a few seconds watching the pair of hawks once more. One suddenly dropped out of the sky, sped towards the ground, and swiftly rose again with a struggling hare. Valkyrie was fascinated. What would it be like to be able to hunt like that? To take the prey totally by surprise, to just drop out of the sky and rise once more with a meal? Her claws clenched slightly as he said that it may become something more if he found something more. The last part seemed laden with hidden meaning. Valkyrie's sight remained determinedly on the hawks and hare, but she felt Ragnar's gaze on her and looked up to his eyes. He was a short distance away, two or three feet, but as she looked at him the distance seemed to almost close. They were lovely eyes, beautiful shades of amber and gold swirling around each other, seeming to be in fluid motion, and Valkyrie liked them. She liked them a lot. She liked the way they set off the golden and copper glints in his fur, how they were framed by his face and seemed just the right balance of orange and yellow. She felt her muscles relax slightly, let her guard slip. She was safe with him, wasn't she? He wouldn't attack her. He'd just met her, and they were foreigners in a strange, alien land. She started slightly as his paw darted out, swatting at the air. Her guard was instantly up and she almost rose to her feet before she realised he was imitating a lynx. She grinned at him, laughed, but inwardly cursed herself for being so easily frightened. He was playing, and she liked that. Springing up, she batted at his face before dancing away, giggling. She came to rest a few feet farther away that she had been before, still grinning stupidly. A few seconds passed in silence before he asked if she was hungry. "Ja, litt," she said, "men du må ikke finne meg noe, vi kan jage begge to." With that she turned, examined the grounds. The land just across the stream seemed a good place to find meat. "Der borte?" she asked, looking back at him. The stiff formality they had been adhering to before seemed to have lifted; she felt more comfortable with him than she had before and she didn't feel as much of a need to keep her distance and speak with short replies and questions that were only polite. || fae || young adult || || Warrior Angel || |