Erling was standing watch when the fox girl approached. He turned to look at her, wondering what she was up to. He found it difficult to tell Aesir’s b*****d cubs apart. The males were twins – triplets? – and the girls all looked like little Aesirs. Which made it a bit disturbing that Vol was after them … Erling couldn’t help smiling slightly as he watched the little Warlady trot towards him. Was this the one he had spoken to before, the one that wanted to be a Priestess? As she drew nearer, he decided she must be one of the other ones. “What are you doing on the border, cub?” Erling called as she drew closer to him.
In truth, Ormarr didn’t really have any plans. She had grown up in the pride, but she still felt no real ambition. She didn’t much want to be a Reaver, and she didn’t much want to be a Priestess like her sisters. Those two were truly Aesir’s daughters. Ormarr had inherited her father’s looks and brash temper, but her mother’s wild nature. She felt she was no one’s daughter, most days … she did not have the interest or inclination to carve out a niche for herself in the pride’s ranks, and she was too boldly colored and hot-tempered to make much of a life as a wildling. So she had taken to wandering. Today, she remained within the pride’s boundaries. Her relationship with Catfish was confusing, and she needed a few days to think.
That big old Captain wouldn’t let her sneak off to the woods in any case. She knew he had seen her. Ormarr trudged towards the Captain, deciding to make the best of it. She had never spoken to him before. It might be nice to spend some time talking to an older lion that presumably had their life in order … as long as he wasn’t a lecher, like that nasty Voldemaras, old enough to be her grandfather and still making eyes at her. “Hello,” she called in return, looking at him warily. “I’m just going on a walk.”
A walk, eh? Erling snorted. “You’re old enough to have duties, cub.” Erling was of the opinion that the young should spend their time working or training. They were altogether too foolish to be allowed to spend their time as they chose. Still, it was a pleasant day, and Erling wasn’t interested in raising his blood pressure shouting at someone else’s wayward daughter. “The woods are no place for a girlcub,” Erling said, raising an eyebrow at her. “Go back to the dens and take a walk with your nannies.”
She wasn’t being hit on, but this was worse in a way. Ormarr narrowed her eyes at the big brown lion, her fur bristling. She was no cub! She was the Warlord’s daughter, and she wasn’t going to let this fool lion harry her back to her den! Of course, she was also a Freeborn girl without rank or title, so she couldn’t very well shout at him. “I’ve been to the woods many times,” Ormarr said. “I was born in the woods. I can take care of myself.”
Erling grinned at the adolescent. So she had a mouth on her, did she? He wasn’t very enthusiastic about the females that styled themselves Reavers, but that wasn’t to say he wanted females to be mild-mannered and weak. He liked Stormborn females to be strong and fierce. “You can take care of yourself?” She looked like no more than a cub to him, barely grown. “Maybe you want to be one of the girl-Reavers?” He laughed.
Ormarr was beginning to frown. She felt like the brown lion was having some kind of laugh at her expense, and she didn’t know why or how to stop it. “No. I’m not going to be a Reaver, Captain.” She shifted her paws, wondering what to say to get him off her back. “I could be a Reaver,” she added, a bit defiant.
Erling could tell that she wasn’t serious. He shrugged, flexing his claws and digging them into the dirt. “I don’t care for female Reavers, myself.” And he didn’t care if she took offense to that. Erling had long ago passed the age where he worried about offending folk … if indeed he ever had worried about it. “Female talents are better used elsewhere.”
Ormarr had indeed heard this opinion expressed by some other male Reavers, but she didn’t share it. Just because she didn’t want to become a Reaver didn’t mean she couldn’t. “I don’t think that’s right,” Ormarr said. “There are many good female Reavers. And I can fight just as well as the boys.” This arrogant old fellow might be a Captain, but no law required her to hold her tongue around him as though she were a slave.
Erling shrugged again, unimpressed by her argument. “I could learn to be a Lawspeaker, girl, but it isn’t my calling.” He smiled at the young Freeborn, amused by her prickly nature. “Being a Reaver isn’t like fighting your brothers. We fight real enemies, enemies that would take even the most scarred up female Reaver captive if they could.” Erling grimaced briefly. Take them as Dagrun had been taken. “Females are smaller than males, weaker. Wilier. You need to use the talents you have, not the ones you wish for.”
As much as this Captain was getting on Ormarr’s nerves, she did agree with his statement. She didn’t see the point of girls becoming Reavers. That was for boys, all stupid brawn and no brains. Captains, maybe … girls would likely make good Captains. Still, they would have to spend all their time with their idiot raiding party, chewing n** and wenching. It sounded pretty horrid to Ormarr. Still, she wasn’t about to concede the point to the brown lion. “Maybe so.” She fell silent.
Now the girl seemed sullen instead of sassy. Erling felt a bit disappointed. Ah, well. That was how young ones acted. Spitting fire one moment and sulking the next. He looked away from the girl, gazing out at the trees. “So, girlcub. If you aren’t here to spar with this old Captain, what are you doing hanging about? And what’s your name?” He couldn’t keep calling her girlcub, not if he was going to keep talking to her. And he was enjoying their conversation. Something to relieve the tedium of a long watch.
