A day after their exile, the group finds themselves trodding further and further away from their old homes. Family, friends, rivals, everything was left behind and nothing but the equipment in their hands and the clothes on their backs were taken with them. None the less the group walked on. What else was there to do? The gods themselves had seen fit to let this group be exiled. And it was up to them to earn back the right to Valhalla.

“It's a test.”Audrunar spoke with a soft voice, moreso to himself than anyone else, but something in his voice sounded like he meant for them to hear. He looked up from his feet and spoke again. “It has to be a test. We have done nothing wrong. Odin must be testing us. For Valhalla, you see?” Audrunar tried to talk sense into the jarl's decision, but it was a god forsaken task. It was clear that even Audrunar didn't believe what he was saying. And if the fact that they were exiled wasn't enough, they were also lost. Someone in the group had said that they should travel west, inlands, to get away from the coast where bad men lurked and roamed. The decision was quickly made, in the midst of the hectical experience of being exiled. Nobody had thought of a place to go, nobody had cared enough to set out a destination.

Not that it mattered where they went, a group of exiles was easy to spot. The fact that they carried little more than some rag-tag items, and a smithee and his wife carrying some tonnes of equipment, that all said enough. These people were not just travellers, they were pisspoor and looked the part, too. Audrunar looked in front of him, watching the entire group. What were these people? What was the great plan Odin had made for them? And why them? Audrunar shook his head, annoyed at the headache he was giving himself. “Just keep walking,” Once again, he spoke to himself, having no former friends in the group to speak to. “... just keep walking. That's all there is.”

His boots stepped through the muddy deer-trail that they were following. It was very silent in the group, and only the occasional crow cawwing broke this silence. It reminded Audrunar of the very first battle he had with this warband. After the fight, they were picking the spoils of battle, and often had to shoo away the crows, picking at the bodies, picking at the dead men their eyeballs, fingers and what else.. yet somehow, the circling of these crows over the battlefield had a nice touch to it - it was almost calming to see that at long last the battle had died down, to hear the crows cawwing and flying, waiting for the warriors to claim their spoils. But it was clear there had been no battle here, and that these crows were just mocking the group travelling. But then, the silence was broken once more. Not by a crow, but by the sound of water running slowly, clashing against the soil.



Audrunar let out a sigh. The water meant that it was time for them to set up camp for the night, to eat and drink together and sit at a fire - something he and the others desperately needed and wanted. However, there was tension in the air and everyone could feel it, smell it.. almost taste it. There were a few decisions that had to be made, and none of them really wanted to discuss it. Never the less.. in order to survive, it was necessary. And Audrunar was certain one of them would step up and try to become the leader of the group, as was expected.

The group came to a stop and looked at eachother, Audrunar being the last in line to arrive. He looked around at the group and sighed. How would they ever survive? This was a question probably entering the heads of the entire group now, something undeniably demoralizing. Audrunar sat down in the grass near the edge of the water and looked out over it, trying to see if there was any activity on the other shoreline of the river. Atleast, as far as he could see, as the reeds blocked his view mostly. However nothing caught his eye. “I don't see anyone there. I think we should be fine. What's next? Anyone got any suggestions?” The question was aimed at the group in general.. what would they do next?

Erika had never really been one to think the gods had ever been on her side, if indeed they took sides at all. This was just another thing to add onto the end of a long list of misfortunes, and punishments for being who she was, where she was. She wasn’t bothered by the mocking of crows, or the mocking of men. The decision to cast her into exile didn’t make her feel a great deal of shame, because she didn’t feel she’d ever really been one of them to begin with, and didn’t want to be one of them. In fact, exile with a small group such as this presented certain opportunities along with its hardships. She’d always preferred her time away from the village. Now she had all the time in the world. At least for as long as she could stay alive, of course.

She walked in silence, ignoring how tired her legs were. Walking was basically all they’d done recently. They had to walk back to the village, which had been exhausting in of itself, and when they arrived, they immediately had to turn around and walk back out. Their supplies were already low, and for the most part, the only things they were able to carry with them was what they had already taken on the raid. Trying to shrug her pack into a more comfortable position on her back, she noticed Audrunar mumbling to himself about tests, Odin and Valhalla.

“Try not to think too hard about it, Aud,” she said, with a bit of a small smile. “We’re still alive. We’ll still be alive tomorrow. Probably.” She shrugged. She did not know Audrunar all that well, but the two were only a year apart in age, and their village hadn’t been that big. She thought of him like she thought of most of the boys: she envied him.

With water came the time to set up camp, and while no one wanted to move much further, no doubt, there wasn’t much food to go around, and there were more than a few of them with already grumbling bellies. Erika was more than willing to make herself useful, especially if she was going to be applying her preferred skill.

“Saw plenty of deer tracks on the way here. I’m going to go hunt, while there’s still daylight,” she said, dropping her pack and stringing her recurve. She preferred to travel light when hunting. She counted ten arrows still left in her quiver. A couple had been lost in the raid, but honestly she’d had little time to shoot them before they needed to flee. Buckling on a leather belt with her knives sheathed to it, she grabbed her hatchet and hooked it at her hip as well.

She turned and headed off back the way they came, not bothering asking for a partner, though she wouldn’t try to stop anyone if they wanted to come along. Erika didn’t really care to be around if the matter of leadership came to discussion. It obviously wouldn’t be her that would be chosen to lead, and she doubted her opinion mattered all that much to them. If their little hierarchy came to be based on strength, it surely wouldn’t be her that came out ahead.

Exile. . . The thought of it still seemed foreign to him. To never again return to his village, or the hall of his Ranulf, the man he had called father for so long. Never see the waves gently lapping at the villages docks, or the longships bobbing upon the evening waters. Never smell the distinctive seeded flatbread Olga used to bake him for his breakfast, or hear the wheezing cough of Old Hakon, the village elder who had taught him so much. Exile was something he had never considered was in his future.

And yet, the more he considered it the more the concept seemed to fit him like a glove. He had never been the son his father had wanted, heir to the Jarl in name only, a constant reminder of a wife's possible infidelity. He had never been the warrior the village had desired him to be, that was certain after recent events. His home had felt like a prison at times, a grim cage, the bars formed by his supposed destiny and responsibilities to the village. Exile was a freedom he realised, a peculiar type of freedom perhaps, but a freedom nonetheless. Now the only destiny he had to concern himself with was the one he made for himself. That, and the one Odin had foretold, though the All-Fathers words were still a mystery to him, so he felt the less time he dwelt on them the better. There were more pressing concerns at the moment. Like survival. . . and dinner.

The long trek had but an edge to Faen's hunger, one liable to cut him if he didn't do something about it soon. Hunger was no stranger to him, strange some might think as he was the son of a wealthy Jarl and they would think he would want for little, but that assumption couldn't be further from the truth. Ranulf had starved Faen often, hoping that hunger and hardship would make him a fiercer warrior, but in truth all it did was heat the flames of the boys hatred for him a little more. Besides, just because he'd been hungry before didn't mean he enjoyed being hungry now. His stomach rumbled as the group assembled, and he was glad to see Erika set off to hunt. A little fresh meat would do him a world of good. He didn't know the woman well- truth be told he didn't know anyone here well as he had ran in different circles to the rest- but he had come to respect Erika's abilities as a huntress in the last few weeks. Without her and her bow it was likely they would all starve.

Now he just had to find a way to make himself useful. It was painfully obvious that as the group went, he was the weak link. Erika could hunt, Aevar and Audrunar were both muscled warriors, while Jonrik and his wife were both skilled tradesmen. He had to stand out early, or they may start to remember his suspect lineage, and blame the Lokison for their recent bad fortune. He was just about to head into the trees to gather some fire wood when his odd coloured eyes wandered along the horizon, his tired mind being lifted by the prettiness of the spot. The running water provided a gentle music, and there was nothing he wanted more than to lay his head and sleep, to dream of better things than exile, spiteful Jarls and divine parentage.

"Probably fish in that river." He mused out loud. Maybe if there was he could use the occasion to show off a little in front of the group, to show them he wasn't completely useless. A travelling merchant had once taught him how to 'tickle fish', a trick that Faen had found to be both interesting and enjoyable. There'd been hell to pay when his father had discovered how his son had spent the afternoon knee deep in river water, making a tit of himself in front of the village folk, but maybe those lessons would pay off now.

"If you get a fire ready Erika and I shall delve the earth and seas for such a banquet to make those feasting in Valhalla green with envy!" He called to Audrunar.

He pulled his boots off and rolled his trews up to the knee before pushing himself to his feet and ambling to the river, before paddling into the shallows. He crouched a little with his hands dipped into the water, waiting for a fish to swim his way. He began to whistle to himself, soft and low.

He was going to enjoy this freedom while he could, as knowing his luck it would all turn to shit soon enough.

Jonrik

The rolling hills of continuous foliage were still green, and for that Jonrik was thankful. If he had to be travelling aimlessly with a vagabond group of men just as inexperienced as he was, he would want to do it in nice weather. He let a long sigh out from his nose, looking up at the sky and relentless sun without comment. The most talkative member of their group had been rambling under his breath and Jonrik paid him no mind at first. He was too busy thinking about the failure of their raid and the inevitability of his and his pretty wife's death to worry about the other man's religious concerns. He didn't ignore Audrunar, he merely kept silent. He looked back at Alva, walking closely behind him but as to not hamper his movement, and she smiled encouragingly at him. He gave her a slight nod, internally relieved she was not yet seeming to tire. Alva was a sort of rock to Jonrik; in this unpredictable sojourn to places unknown she was surprising supportive and pleasant. She looked tired and dirty, but not beaten, and could go for as long as Jonrik kept moving.

The longer they traveled, the more Jonrik thought of his patriotic failure, and a grimace would flit across his features during their daily jaunts in periods of prolonged silence. Jonrik had been a proud man; he had a well-off business, a pretty wife that would no doubt soon bring him sons, and finally a position to defend that pride. But he had squandered it with his failure, and now his already small ego felt deflated.

Jonrik's strides were strong and evenly spaced, showing no sign of weariness in front of his young bride and male companions. His arms were taut but not stiff, holding one of his hunting spears at his hip. His ax, made more for cutting woods than limbs, was strung on a loop on his belt, hanging down to his knee and movingly somewhat naturally with his leg. That only came after many readjustments from both himself and discreetly Alva the day before.

As the group approached a small glade at the edge of a river the song of rushing water was a welcomed sound. Jonrik too scanned the opposite side for any sign of danger but found nothing more than Audrunar. After a moment of squinting at the horizon, Jonrik reached to the nape of his neck and loosed the tie holding his hair, and then dipped forward and submerged his head until the water met his brow. He straightened and brushed the water through his hair. As Erika and Faen left to hunt, separately which Jonrik found a little foolish but didn't say anything, Jonrik saw Alva rummaging through their pack and scowling. After a moment, he went to her. She looked up respectfully as he approached. "What's troubling you?"

"Well," she said loudly enough for both him and the others to hear, and shot a short glance at Audrunar, "What we need right now, if Erika and Faen are trying to hunt, is fire, but we do not have a firestone in our pack."

Jonrik scowled and stood. "Well, regardless of how we start the fire we need wood." He looked from their position off from the river on their side to where the area became more wooded, mirroring the opposite side of the river. "I will go back and collect what I can." Jonrik addressed the group as a whole, not Alva, as he said this, and, assuming no one would object, Jonrik went to do just that, a hand resting on the head of his ax.

Alva

The monotony of the sun beating down atop Jonrik's dark hair was beginning to annoy him. He was not an irritable man, which, in the group's situation was probably a nice benefit, but that was not to say he was perpetually congenial. The stiffness in his shoulders that Alva saw because of the heat's agitation was doubtless beginning to form knots that she would have to rub out later. She noted this, but then put it out of her mind. It was a worry and responsibility for when they stopped for the night. Besides that, she herself had a few knots affecting her comfort from their supplies, but she had the womanly grace to not show it. As the submissive gender, and the one that was considered to do less working, a whining girl was an ungrateful nuisance. Thankfully, their group had no such characters to deal with. Women like that aggravated Alva as much as her male superiors. She did shift the two packs on her back in response, though.

Alva's personal pack, the smaller of the two, was a sack with a few pockets made of a single worked and processed elk hide with dried sinew draw ties at the circular top. A flap was sewn just beyond to cover the drawstring opening. The pockets, large enough to actually be considered pouches, were sewn on with more dried sinew. Inside were basic living supplies that most people planning on raiding for a few days with think to carry with them: an extra pair of clothes (one entire set for both Alva and Jonrik, but nothing more), a small amount of leftover rations (dried meat and prepared traveling cakes of cooked and baked fats, oats, and fruits), and a few random tools of Alva's womanly duties (specifically a few sewing needles in a small cylindrical container along with a thimble and awl, a small amount of sinew for sewing, a few small scraps of leather, a metal cooking pot, and a pouch with white willow bark). The pack was light and rested near her shoulders, on top of their heavier tools pack. The tool pack, another pack made of leather, was dyed black and shaped with a cubic back-frame. The end result was a black box with a strong bottom that closed with a top flap sewn to one side. The sides of the top tied closed at the sides. The pack, which did not extend much past Alva's lithe frame, was slightly sagged down with its contents' weight. The pack contained a single pair of tongs and pliers, a worn pair of leather gloves, two hammers with large and small heads, a few chunks of pre-smelted ore, and leather cut into strips. Above those tools were a broken down wooden frame for Alva's work and a few large wooden bowls darkly stained, as well as a few metal scrapers for treating hides. If they had left on a trade trip, Alva would have brought along the right fats for curing and waterproofing, but alas she did not anticipate this turn of events.

When the sound of running water started to drift lazily along to the group's ears Alva had to suppress a sigh of contentment. She was not used to traveling and her whole body, shoulders to feet, ached. When Alva stopped, she released her burden to the ground. "I don't see anyone there. I think we should be fine. What's next? Anyone got any suggestions?" A man's voice was a sort of attention queue for Alva and so she paid heed to the sound of Ardrunar's query. Thinking the answer to his rhetorical question was fire, Alva knelt next to her pack and began to rifle through it, moving the larger items out of the way and groping at masses of clothes to see if they contained any hidden items.

"Saw plenty of deer tracks on the way here. I’m going to go hunt, while there’s still daylight, Alva frowned after a moment, thinking back to when she had packed that bag. Had she forgotten the flint, or had she lost it?

"If you get a fire ready Erika and I shall delve the earth and seas for such a banquet to make those feasting in Valhalla green with envy!" Regardless of the explanation of the flint's non-existence, she had no flint to her name.

"What's troubling you?" Alva came to rapt attention at Jonrik's voice, looking up at his face (though not necessarily his eyes). He stood over her crouched form and peered down through a few rebellious tresses of damp hair.

"Well," she started a bit hesitantly, figuring that it was her fault they had no flint, "What we need right now, if Erika and Faen are trying to hunt, is fire, but we do not have a firestone in our pack." Alva looked up at the stragglers of their group as Jonrik departed with a few words. Alva stood and began to collect stones for a fire pit, asking the remaining members of their group, "Does anyone else have a firestone?"

Audrunar watched as Erika moved off into the forest again. Her stay with the group was short and Audrunar had half a mind that she was leaving the group to be alone. Faen was standing in the river, doing what seemed like nothing. Audrunar sighed and sat down on a bendy treestump, overlooking the group that was left, paying short notion to Faen in the distance and keeping an eye on him. Alva was rummaging through her pack, something Audrunar had seen her do a lot during this trek. While many of them had nothing more than a few tools, these two insisted on carrying around traveling packs the size of mountains. When Jonrik inquired to Alva's troubles she answered that they had no flint, to which Audrunar responded with a short, silent “pssh.” Some smith he was. Can't even start a fire if he had to. And the look Alva shot at Audrunar wasn't appreciated either as it made him feel like he had somehow been responsible for a flint.

Audrunar stood up from the stump and grabbed Jonrik's arm when he tried to get away to get firewood. He delved into his pockets and took his own flint, then lightly threw it towards Alva. “Keep it. A smith has more need for it than I do.” He smiled at Alva, forcing him to forget her look at him earlier. It had been a long day, and he might be misinterpreting the whole look she gave him. After seeing to it that she would take the flint and stash it somewhere, Audrunar gripped Jonrik's arm tighter and guided him closer to the edge of the forest, stopping him there and bending his head closer to Jonrik so he could hear Audrunar when he would speak more silent.

“We need a place to sleep, Jonrik. I ask you to do this, not me, because Alva is your wife.” It would be rather unclear where Audrunar was going with this, but he continued. “... just because people got exiled with us doesn't mean they are one of us.” Audrunar looked into the distance, where Faen was whistling to himself and trying to catch a fish. “I'm not sure about him. Do you know what they called him? The Lokison, cunning and deceiving.” After that he looked at Alva, noting the shortsword she had. “A shortsword at day doesn't protect against a knife in the dark.” He would release Jonrik's arm and slap his shoulder, then move in the trail that Erika took, hoping to catch up with her while he would go and collect firewood.

It was also pretty clear that Audrunar wasn't sure about the Lokison. He was all for equal chances and a new start - but this guy had a certain reputation. He was smart, clever, knew all sorts of tricks and gimmicks. But at the same time, this man could use all that against the group. So Audrunar wasn't sure where to put this guy. His mind clouded with thoughts about the group, he snapped back to reality when he realized that he should probably come back with some firewood. So he bent through his knees and started grabbing wood. But just as he bent over, he heard the clouds split and noticed the rain starting to fall all around him. Just as he was going to look up, he heard the crackle of thunder. The Gods were angry, tonight. All he could say was “.. deer shit.”

Tickling fish was an art, not a science, and like most art it took time, patience and repetition to truly call yourself a master. Faen had devoted none of the above to tickling, but he made up for it with his deft hands, a good eye, and a truly inspiring case of beginners luck. He found an underwater ledge in the shallows easily enough, a likely place for a trout to rest on it's journey up stream he figured. As usual he was correct, spotting a tail fin swishing in the water. With infinite care and a glacial lack of speed he crouched into the river, passed his hand with fingers turned up under the ledge, until he was touching the trout's tail. Then, as the merchant had taught him, he began to tickle the creature lightly with just his forefinger.

The fish never swam away in a panic, as you might think it should. Instead it fell into a stupefied like trance, heedless to the peril it was in, allowing the Lokison to slowly trace his finger the length of the creatures belly. Stupid beast, surrendering it's fate for a belly rub. Oblivious to the doom that awaits it, simply because a higher being offers it a modicum of attention. Gods, it's almost like looking into a mirror.

It was a disturbing thought, realising he was just like that fish. Odin had appeared to him, speaking in riddles, and now here he was, wandering aimlessly with a ragtag group of other exiles, scratching out an existence one second to the next, no thought to his own future save that which the All-Father had placed in his head. It irked him to say the very least, to have his much vaunted intelligence and cunning reduced to dust in the face of a God. Hel, he hadn't even really believed in the God's before this, believing the red-haired man who slept with his mother and caused him so much pain being no more than an ill-timed philanderer. Now he wasn't sure of what was true and what was myth, if he was master of his own fate or merely a plaything for bored Æsir, a galling experience for a man who coveted both knowledge and freedom.

His hand had worked it's way to the fishes head now, just under the gills. The trout's time was coming to an end, Faen grasping it tightly and pulling it from the water. The creature tried to struggle free from his grip, but it was far, far too late for that now. The Lokison threw the beast to the bank, were it flip-flopped pathetically. A sharp strike with the butt of his knife stunned the fish, ready for the gutting. A rather inglorious end, all things told. And there, our similarities will end, Trout. I refuse to meet my end at the whims of some other being, higher or otherwise.

There, hands covered in the guts and excrement of a dead fish on its way to the cook fire, Faen resolved to be master of his own fate. He had let others decide his path for too long, but now, at the onset of exile he made himself a promise that no longer would he be a plaything or a puppet for others. Maybe this life was game for higher beings to enjoy, but he was damned if he was going to play by their rules. All he needed was a plan. . .

To start he would need allies. Hardly going to become a force to be reckoned with by man and God alike on his own, and it made sense to start with those wretched creatures most like him, those with nothing to lose, his brothers and sisters in exile. He would have to level his considerable charm at his new compatriots, to convince them to rally to his cause. It would have to be a slow process though, as slow as and inexorable as a coming winter, to worm his way slowly into their trust and confidence. Nothing anyone hated more than a pushy stranger, especially one rumoured to be son of the God of lies.

Arudunar had been shooting him harsh glances all day, making Faen might think if that ship hadn't already set sail then the passengers were probably starting to board. Erika might be an easier nut to crack, but as he had little dealings with her he was still unsure of what her responses would be to him. No, there is an easier path, one that can kill two birds with one stone. He carried his fish, freshly gutted and cleaned, across to Alva, once more whistling a merry tune, this time to gain the blacksmiths wife's attention.

“May I borrow the flint, m'lady? I can feel the promised warmth of a fire and cooked meal calling to me, and I fear we best get it started now if we want the flames to take before the rain sets in.” He gestured to the gathering storm clouds, using the fish as a pointer, a slight grin playing upon his face.

Erika took slow, controlled breaths through her nose as the rain began to patter down against the leaves around her. She crouched low while she moved forward, an arrow already nocked to her bow. She wasn’t very impressive in terms of her physique, but there was a kind of deliberateness and accuracy to her movements that implied that she had excellent control over herself. Never in her life had Erika been a clumsy girl.

The young buck she was stalking wasn’t overly large, but Erika actually approved of that. She was going to have to carry him back on her own, after all, and she didn’t want to risk a strong one running off with one of her arrows stuck in him. She needed every one she had left, at least until they could make more. Jonrik probably wouldn’t be making any more arrowheads for her until they found a better place to set up camp and stay put for a while.

When her prey stopped, so did she, standing still behind a tree wide enough to hide from sight the majority of her thin frame. A low rumble of thunder echoed around in the distance, but neither hunter nor hunted paid it any mind. Erika pushed a lock of damp hair from her face, setting up her shot, quietly lining up the arrow and drawing back the string, her breathing slow and calm. The buck was facing away from her, and she patiently waited while he grazed and sniffed about. Her arm was well trained to this by now, and she held her aim steady.

At last he grew tired of his spot, and turned to walk away, exposing Erika’s target. She took a moment to adjust her aim for his movement, and then did not hesitate in loosing. The arrow whistled through the air and struck the buck solidly in the chest cavity. Startled, he shot off into the woods at full speed, but he staggered wildly after a few steps. Erika gave chase, following his obvious trail of blood left on the ground. An excellent hit, she could safely say.

She found him less than fifty meters from where she’d landed her shot, laying still in the grass, thankfully having expired. Kneeling beside him and working to carefully retrieve her arrow, she offered brief thanks to Odin, before cleaning off the arrowhead and sliding it back into her quiver. Now came the fun part. Grimacing, she hefted the buck up and over her shoulders, starting the trek back to the camp.

Erika was quite tired and quite hungry by the time she returned, especially with the knowledge that she was carrying a large portion of dinner on her back. It would be more than enough meat to fill everyone’s bellies, though admittedly it was mostly for the warriors of the group. Erika could have filled herself up on a hare, and she did indeed intend to catch a few of those whenever they found a more regular place to set up camp. She didn’t want to go making snares and leaving them about if they were just going to pick up and move on the next day.

“Someone want to help me with this?” she suggested, setting the carcass down and drawing her skinning knife. Thankfully, the camp seemed mostly set up, and Faen looked to have caught a fish, though she wasn’t sure if he intended only on feeding himself. It would be best to string up the deer somewhere and skin him there, but Erika wondered if one of the men might be willing to take over the responsibility. She was more interested in getting off her feet for a while, and setting up a spot where she could stay dry for the night.

Jonrik

As Jonrik departed to collect wood for a fire, Audrunar stopped him and spoke. "We need a place to sleep, Jonrik. I ask you to do this, not me, because Alva is your wife." Jonrik's eyes narrowed and he shot the other man a look out of the corner of his eye in confusion. Not only was Alva none of his concern, she had no problem spending the night on the ground. "... just because people got exiled with us doesn't mean they are one of us... I'm not sure about him. Do you know what they called him? The Lokison, cunning and deceiving." Jonrik had heard of the Lokison, but he hadn't made the connection to Faen before that. With a snort, he looked into the distance to the man squatting in the river. "A short sword at day doesn't protect against a knife in the dark." Jonrik wasn't really worried, especially in their situation. It wouldn't be hard to discern who had done what if physical violence was committed by one member of their small group. Plus, Alva was intelligent, even in the secrecy of their hearth Jonrik admitted that she was beyond him, so he wasn't worried about her getting manipulated. Jonrik honestly thought Audrunar was just handing off the task of creating a shelter to him because he didn't want to do it himself. As Audrunar turned away with a slap on the smith's shoulder, Jonrik repressed a roll of his eyes. Audrunar had been a little dramatic in Jonrik's eyes. Maybe the Lokison had dark intentions, but Jonrik doubted he would make any move with so little gains to be had at the moment. But he did note that Audrunar had chosen to view him as an ally.

As the blacksmith breached the treeline, he shook those thoughts from his head and focused on the task at hand. There weren't many easy shelters to make that would hold so many people, and the only thing Jonrik thought would work would be a round lodge. As thunder rumbled menacingly in the distance it reminded Jonrik that time was a factor, unless he wanted to be working in the rain. A round lodge would take more time to put up, and so he settled on finding a spot with two trees he could base a lean-to on. But a lean-to couldn't hold a fire like a round lodge and if the rain or wind switched directions it would be like not having a shelter at all. He looked around. Mostly in the area were large-trunked deciduous trees, with a spattering of birch and other similar species. There was sparse brush in this area. Jonrik went past the line of trees and out to where the foliage flattened. He looked down the brush line and started walking, trying to decide between the two. Then he saw something that made the decision for him.

Just down the line of trees from where the group had stopped originally, Jonrik could peer through the trees and see a fallen trunk in the distance. Jonrik went to it, and saw that in its fall it 's branches had gotten tangled with other trees, keeping the log firmly hanging several feet off the ground. Jonrik inspected it, and tested it by placing his hand on top of the log and trying to dislodge it. Even when he jumped onto it, it held firm. He paid close attention to where the branches of the fallen tree had gotten stuck in other, smaller trees. A large limb, the top of the trunk most likely, had wedged in the forked trunk of another tree. Nodding and moving down its length, he saw the upturned side of the tree roots had grass and small flowers growing on the dirt that had once been submerge in the earth. The tree must've been there for at least a season, and Jonrik was not worried it would move.

Jonrik, thinking of the potential of the tree, was grateful for a solution to his problem. The existence of the tree took much of his possible work away. He planned to make a two-sided lean-to off of this fallen log, with a few feet of one side left open to allow space for a fire. It would vent, but would have protection from the coming rain. He hefted his ax from his belt and planned to get to work. He turned in a circle, looking for a tree with limbs long enough to get from the wedged tree and the ground. He made for a large tree away from the river.

As he came to the large oak, he realized he was going to have to climb the beast to get what he needed. The trunk split close to the ground and went almost horizontally in one direction, and down that trunk were boughs the size he needed. With further inspection he saw they were too high for him to cut from the ground. With a sigh, Jonrik went to the V-shaped sprouting point of the oak. He jumped up with little difficulty and climbed on his hands and knees until he came to a branch he found suitable for the shelter. He hacked it down, awkwardly, and did the same for three other branches he found along his path. He carefully maneuvered back to the ground. He only had four main supports for the walls, and he had wanted seven. The other direction the trunk went was more vertical and harder to climb. He went to collect the ones he had cut down, and laughed at himself for forgetting the obvious. Large branches from the oak, these lacking leaves and most protruding limbs, had accumulated over time. He grabbed a large armful of long branches and dragged them back to their new campsite. He went about arranging them to lean from the wedged tree and the ground. One side went the length of the tree, and the other had a small entrance way and space for a fire. The whole group couldn't spread out in the shelter, but they would all fit without too much discomfort. The width of the wedged tree added surprising width to the shelter. When he was done, the basic skeleton of the shelter was done, a grid of limbs on either side of the trunk waiting to be filled.

"Jonrik? The smith jumped at the unexpected call. He turned, and saw Alva coming from a direction some-what from where they had stopped. Her two small hands cradled something, and when she came close to him she offered him her bundle. Jonrik picked a small hazelnut from her hand and threw it up to his mouth, earning him a small giggle from the blonde girl. "Can't make a fire without wood. What're you doing all the way down here?" She asked, pale blue eyes wide and curious.

"I have been tasked with making a shelter." He said simply, motioned toward the start of his work, "Audrunar went to get wood."

"Do you need any help?" She asked in her delicate voice and Jonrik chuckled. He reached out and stroked her jaw with his knuckles.

"No, dear. Go back and wait where we stopped. Or you can start making camp here but make sure no one gets left behind." Had another man offered his assistance, Jonrik would have accepted, but he was too prideful to accept such help from his wife. She bowed her head respectfully and walked past him, getting a kiss on the top of her blonde hair as she went. He didn't watch her leave, but instead started on the threshing of the roof. Jonrik had the smaller side of the shelter done, some of the other, and was working on gathering smaller boughs and foliage to finish and reinforce the longer wall as a few raindrops started to careen from the sky.

Alva

"Keep it. A smith has more need for it than I do." Alva, the front of her dress now weighed down with round stones, sticks, and dry reeds and grass, smiled and bowed her head at Audrunar.

"Thank you, Audrunar, I will not lose this one," the woman said firmly, taking the nodule and holding it in a clenched hand. As Alva discharged her burden, both Jonrik and Audrunar departed toward the forest. She picked through the seemingly random debris, pulling out the round stones. She placed them, side by side, in a circle in the reeds. She didn't think this was the best place for the fire, but they had no established spot or shelter. A fire could be moved relatively simply with a simple torch, she knew, and so figured she would just move it when the time came. Next, in the center of the circle, she placed the dry reeds and grasses for tinder. She laid a few thin sticks in a cone over the tinder. There she paused. She could make fire easily with the flint and the nodule of ore in her pack, but the tinder and sticks would probably burn up before Jonrik returned with wood. It would also be some time before either Erika or Faen came back from their separate jaunts. Alva shifted and opened her personal pack, pulled out her extra white shirt, and then closed her personal pack and wrapped it in the shirt. She put the white package on top of her black pack. It stood above the reed grasses and so she would be able to find her way back to it. So would anyone else, though. She wedged the flint in between to two packs in a spot visible to someone who came back to the started fire-pit.

Thunder rumbled as Alva stood and turned toward the woods. On their trek, Alva had wondered if some of the nuts and berries she had seen had been edible, but she had only trivial knowledge on such matters and hadn't been able to tell in passing. Jonrik had gone down the treeline, and Alva breached the woods before going in the same direction. The season was late, and Alva found much less then she had hoped for. Most of the berries around were stiff and small, and the stems of the plant were spiny. She did manage to find a small handful of hazelnuts, and popped one in her mouth as a finders fee.

She kept looking, keeping in the direction Jonrik had gone, and eventually came upon him after a decent amount of time had gone by. He stood under a tree wedged horizontally with the beginnings of a shelter built around it, his mail shirt sparkling in the dappled sunlight. Smiling, she called to him, "Jonrik!" He turned to her and she quickened her pace. She came up to him and offered him a hazelnut. With a raised brow, he selected one and tossed it up into his mouth. She giggled and said, "Can't make a fire without wood. What're you doing all the way down here?"

"I have been tasked with making a shelter." His tone told Alva that the task had not settled well with him. She wondered if it was the task itself or who said it or how it was presented that agitated him. Nevertheless, Alva was sure he was over it by now, or would be by the time the task was done.

"Do you need any help?" She knew he would say no, but she had to asked either way. He laughed, and she rolled her eyes as he caressed her face.

"No, dear. Go back and wait where we stopped. Or you can start making camp here but make sure no one gets left behind." Alva smiled and inclined her head properly, sashaying past him and getting a peck on her head. She turned back after a few steps but Jonrik had already turned away. It didn't take more than a few minutes for her to come back out to the glade that ran along the river. She spotted her pack in the distance and went for it.

She shifted the hazelnuts to one palm and fumbled with her pack for one of her wooden bowls, pouring them into one when she managed to free the stained bowl. Figuring that she would soon have to up and move anyway, she began to pick up the stones she had placed earlier, but froze when she saw someone walking in the distance. Her hand twitched toward the short sword at her hip, but relaxed when she saw it was just Faen returning. It looked as though he had been successful. She reached for the bowl of hazelnuts as he got close, the sound of his whistling in sharp contrast to the increasingly loud thunder. She wondered briefly if he was really happy enough to be whistling in such a situation, but she let the thought go as irrelevant.

Alva reached up to him and offered him the bowl as he spoke to her. "May I borrow the flint, m'lady? I can feel the promised warmth of a fire and cooked meal calling to me, and I fear we best get it started now if we want the flames to take before the rain sets in." She gestured in turn at her dismantled fire-pit, a polite smile on her face.

"That's what we'd all like, but Ardrunar has not returned with firewood. It won't make you very warm until then. I would start it, but Audrunar asked Jonrik to make a shelter, and he started it back from the river in case the rain makes the water rise. I figured I would move the fire-pit there before we start it." She shrugged. "But our group is spread out and I do not want anyone to return to nothing."

Audrunar held the bushel of half-wet branches and twigs close to him. The ground had dampened most of the branches, lest they had fallen very recently. Some of the branches he held were pretty dry though, as he had taken his axe and had taken the branches from the trees himself. He figured that if the fire got started they would be able to toss on the more wet branches, the fire would dry them and they'd ignite after that. He wasn't sure if his logic was truth but there was one way to find out. Either someone in the group would tell him he did wrong, or his theory would work. Trudging back to the mud he noticed that it was getting ever more muddy due to the rain which was now picking up it's pace and strength, already wettening Audrunars hair to a noticeable point. Sinking his boots into the mud again and again, he stumbled against Jonriks chosen place to start a small camp. Without speaking out to Jonrik first, to make his location known, he yelled at him from a distance. “I think this is a fine spot, Jonrik. Not the spot I had in mind, but I guess this spot will keep us from travellers stinging eyes.” He walked closer, noting Jonriks work on the shelter, which was working out quite well. He whistled approvingly and then turned around the location. There were some trees in front of the fallen log, which was steadily turning into a true shelter, but mostly they still had a small ''clearing'' in front of the shelter. Audrunar approved, as this would give them space to have some working places set up if they chose to stay longer.

Though it appeared like he was thinking of the area around the shelter, he really had no clue what was next, so he turned to Jonrik. “I am guessing you'll want some spruce twigs after this, to cover the sides? Should I get them for you?” Due to the uncentralized situation the group was in, he hadn't much knowledge of what had happened during his time spent gathering some branches, so he didn't realize that the others hadn't moved here yet either. Before he got an answer, he moved to one of the nearby spruces, a small, short one. He took his axe and chopped a bunch of branches from it. He didn't realize they'd probably need a mix of leaf and needle type twigs for the best coverage against wind and rain. But really, any help was help at all. When he finished, he dropped the twigs near Jonrik and was about to say something to him, when he suddenly turned his head in response to a sound that was familiar - but was also a sound you are never really excited to hear.

The bear roared loudly, his eyes peeled on the freshly killed deer. It was obviously a young bear, but quite humongous for it's age. Slowly it stepped closer, turning it's head towards Erika, then to Alva and Faen. The bear had stepped from the bushes close to the path they had used to get here, possibly alarmed by the scent of a fresh deer. And now that he saw the deer was already dead, he figured it an easy meal. Suddenly he sped up and ran towards the deer, swiping his paws at Erika as he ran closer. It was obvious that the bear was out of their reach for now - the small amount of arrows Erika had, and the few javelins that were nearby were not merely enough to even hurt the bear. At best they would merely anger him more. Rather than just taking the deer and making off with it, though, he turned around all of a sudden and took a turn towards Alva and Faen, seeing the fish Faen held as a quite prized reward as well. If they did not make it out of there in time, he'd raise on his back paws, swiping both front paws in both of them their direction.

“Grab your ax, Jonrik, I feel you might need it.” Audrunar tried to speak calmly as he could, but it was obvious he feared for his friends' life. Before he would get an answer he'd start walking, and then running towards the camp, expecting Jonrik to do the same. “I think Odin really has some problems with us..” he said under his breath, unsure if Jonrik'd hear.

No sooner had Erika set down the deer and began to survey the progress that had been made on their shelter than she heard a roar from behind her, and dread welled up in the pit of her stomach. She turned as the bear was charging at her, eyes widening. She instinctively backed up, and when the bear swiped for her, it was the deer that actually saved her, tripping her when she stumbled over it and sending her falling back onto her rear.

She’d wanted to get off her feet, but not like this. Erika lay directly on top of the deer, probably the worst position possible to be in, and for a moment she thought that surely the beast was going to descend on her and rend her to pieces. It didn’t though, turning sharply to charge off at Alva and Faen instead. She didn’t want to be callous, but in that moment, all she felt was relief that someone else was the subject of the bear’s wrath.

Not wanting to remain helpless on top of the bear’s meal any longer, Erika rolled over and scrambled to her feet, putting some distance between her and the carcass. The best she had for weapons at the moment was the hatchet hooked under her belt. She doubted she could do much to the bear besides get herself killed if she tried to fight it, but it was better than nothing. Her arrows probably wouldn’t slow it down, even if she shot all ten into it.

She’d encountered bears before, of course, but never in a situation where they threatened her entire livelihood. The answer before had always been to just run away. It didn’t seem like a bad idea at the moment, so long as it was gone when they came back. Erika would rather go hungry for a night than be dead for eternity.

“What do we do?” she asked, when she made it to Audrunar and Jonrik. Perhaps the young warrior and the smith had a good way of making their problem disappear.

Why was Faen not surprised that the knuckle-dragging, mono-browed, wannabe raider Audrunar had failed to bring back any firewood yet. Give the simplest of the group the simplest job and he would simply fail. He kept the scorn he felt for cretin from his face though, as it wouldn't do to show the negative thoughts he felt for the man to Alva, especially if he was trying to foster good will with this group. Instead he merely widened his smile and shook his head slightly.

"Well, I hope he returns soon, otherwise this rain will put paid to all of our hopes." It was then that Erika returned, carting a large buck. Looked heavy too, so she was obviously stronger than she looked. The Lokison returned to Alva. "We should return to your husband and get the fire started there. I'll go and help Erika with her trophy." Not that he particularly relished the idea of lugging a dead dear through the forest, but strong or not, Erika looked near done in. Besides, he'd never skinned a deer before, and it could prove to be useful knowledge if he could get her to teach him. His thoughts were disturbed by a low bodied growl, a fearsome sound that froze his blood.

A bear burst from the undergrowth, and a big one too. Easily 500 pounds, if Faen had to guess, all muscle and grit. And look how mean and angry it looks. Reminds me of father. A chuckle burst from Faen's mouth then, a bizarre reaction born from his fear, one that he could barely control. The beast charged Erika then, massive paws swiping at the huntress, before turning towards the Lokison and Alva. Faen chuckled again, louder this time, the sound mingling with the roaring of both bear and thunder. God's, why couldn't he control his laughter. Is this the fate you deemed for me All-Father? Cosumed then shat out by an ill-tempered bear, as helpless as that damned fish. Ha-bloody-ha!

Wait. The fish!

That must have been what attracted the bear, the smell of fish and dear. When it had burst from the undergrowth it had seen the carcasses, and thought to win itself an easy meal. That must be it! Helvi, Ranulf's head huntsman, had once told Faen that bears will rarely willingly attack humans, not if they could help it. Usually only if it was a mother feeling her young were in trouble or one that had poor luck hunting. Other than that it was only the opportunistic ones, those to lazy to hunt for greater game, and those could usually be dissuaded when they discovered how hard it is to kill a man. Yes, that was it, if you were actually attacked by a bear then hit them hard and fast, make them realise you aren't worth the trouble. Look at you, Faen Lokison, actually considering fighting a bear. Like you wouldn't already be running if you didn't know a bear could outrun anyman, even one as adept at retreat as you!

The beast was closing now, close enough for Faen to smell his animal stink. He took a half step forward, falling in place in front of Alva, laughter died in him now to be replaced with a grim determination, and smirk frozen on his face like this was all a joke, but he was the only one clever enough to understand it.

"You want the fish? Be careful what you wish for!" With that he hurled the trout with all his might, the dead thing flipping head over tail as it spun in the air. The Lokison's aim was true, hitting the bear straight in the nose. While it wasn't an exceptionally large fish it was still heavy enough to give the bear a shock, especially considering were it hit him. He took advantage of the confusion, shoving Alva away while dancing to the side, waving his arms and making as much noise as possible, looking to lead the danger away. It took him a second to realise he was no longer afraid, and was in fact laughing again, a great booming sound full of good humour.

What is wrong with me?

Jonrik

"Ugh," the blacksmith grunted as he regathered the bundle of leafy boughs he had lost hold of when he tripped over a rock. The moist environment and his work had plastered his hair to his neck and face with light sweat, and he was tired of hauling materials to the shelter. Jonrik was not one to complain, though, and continued his task with only a slight grimace. As he neared the shelter, Jonrik started and almost dropped his parcel as he heard Audrunar calling through the trees.

"I think this is a fine spot, Jonrik. Not the spot I had in mind, but I guess this spot will keep us from travelers' stinging eyes." Jonrik made it to the shelter and dropped his bundle near the unfinished wall. Audrunar was burdened with logs, most wet from the environment: not that it mattered much. Wet wood could burn, it just took a little while to ignite and when it did the smoke would be darker than normal. Alva had not yet moved the camp here, though he suspected she would start on that at any moment, so Jonrik didn't object when Audrunar dropped the bundle near the shelter. He inspected the shelter and the area more before continuing, "I am guessing you'll want some spruce twigs after this, to cover the sides? Should I get them for you?" Jonrik hadn't been paying too much attention to the types of branches he had used, but it sounded like a good idea to use different types.

Audrunar started on getting spruce limbs before Jonrik answered, but he called to him, "Yeah, that's a good idea," just to keep comradery alive and not to seem rude. The blacksmith went to crouch near the unfinished wall and continue to intertwine branches to their optimal efficiency, but his eyes happened to glance toward the direction of camp to see a frightening sight. From where the shelter was, one could look and see where they had stopped on the riverbank through the trees and foliage. There was still a distance between the two spots, but he had the feeling if he yelled Alva could hear him. As he glanced over, the sound of a primal roar echoed from the bank, and he saw a large brown form hurtling toward the figures in the distance. From where Jonrik was, he could not see the camp as well as Audrunar, but he was still alert and heading off to his wife at a jog before the other said anything. Audrunar's words were lost to the wind as Jonrik finally realized the danger Alva was in and launched himself in the direction of the river.

Jonrik ran past Erika as she came to him and Audrunar, caring little for her plaintive cry in that moment. The beast had turned to Alva (and Faen too, but Jonrik paid him as little thought as Erika) and the fearful anger that pooled in his stomach was almost unfathomable. He noticed as Faen put himself between the woman and the bear, but the sight didn't comfort him and he hefted his ax as he got closer, watching as Faen chucked his catch at the bear's snout. It didn't do much but make the creature flinch, but it gave Jonrik the time he needed to swoop in and save Alva. As soon as he was close enough, the smith roughly shoved, more like threw, the woman in the direction of the woods. He quickly spun on his heels and waved his arms at the bear, moving a little bit farther away from Faen to give the bear more choice in target. Foolish, but Jonrik wouldn't blatantly abandon the man who would've saved Alva's life. Intentional or not Faen had indebted the blacksmith to him.

Alva

Alva smiled widely when Erika returned to camp, looking past Faen to take in the sight of the fortuitous catch. "Audrunar cannot take much longer to simply gather firewood," she said cheerfully to Faen. She leaned back to the firepit, but felt a deathly cold fear grip her bones as she caught sight of a huge brown bear striding, slowly but with deserved ease and confidence, toward them. As she opened her mouth to warn her companions, the whimpering sound was completely dominated by the thundering roar of the bear coming for the group. Alva scrambled to stand as the bear took a sudden lurch forward, barreling forward to Erika and her kill. Alva gasped in horror, backing away now that she was on her feet, as the beast swung at the huntress, missing only because she tripped over the prize of the evening: the buck.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, a minuscule concern in the face of immediate danger. Standing near Faen because of their previous proximity, Alva visibly flinched when the bear turned its dark, beady eyes for the pair. She pulled a shuddering breath to her lungs as she looked into the bear's eyes. Small and impossibly dark, they held no traces of thought or emotion, not even anger. Alva didn't object when Faen put himself between her and the bear. An effluvium of carrion and animal musk wafted from the creature, making it that much more horrifying and disgusting. An impossibly long moment stretched as Alva quivered, petrified. She didn't hear Faen's out-of-place laughter, only the bear's heavy breathing and her own terrified gulps of air, or see Jonrik and Audrunar returning from the forest, just the matted fur and rippling muscles of the brute in front of her.

The moment ended when Faen launched his trout at the bear's face. Alva would've laughed too had she not been so rooted by fear. Faen took the moment to shove her from the bear's path (not that she minded much, she was more than grateful to not be alone in that moment). She pranced away, keeping her balance until Jonrik came in from where she hadn't seen and tossed her farther. Then she had to clamber on her hands and knees to stand. When she finally reoriented herself, Faen and Jonrik were in front of the bear. Jonrik taunted it by waving his arms, and the sight of his ax reminded Alva to draw her shortsword. She reached to her hip and pulled the blade out in a smooth motion, but looked down at the object uncertainly. She doubted that her shortsword would be much help. Or any of their weapons for that matter.

Audrunar slowed down a bit once Erika came into view, but as Jonrik sped by him he was pulled back into the situation, speeding up again and running past Erika. Ofcourse, he wouldn't blatantly ignore her and he would extend his arm, grabbing the hem of her leather vest close to the neck and pulling her with him. Underbreath, he mumpled to her. “You ran? Nice show of bravery. Odin is watching. Remember.” After saying that to her, hopefully out of earshot of Jonrik, he'd let her go with a small push towards the camp. When Audrunar could finally see the full situation, he realized now that they had needed a fire sooner. Then they could have used the fire to chase the bear away. Faen was trying to trick the bear to go away, but instead of what Faen had planned, the bear only got more aggravated by the fish landing on it's snout, it's breathing and breezing becoming louder as he'd stand still and look around at it's targets.

It was then Audrunar noticed the shortsword that Alva had drawn, after she got tossed around a few times. For a moment, Audrunar had to remind himself that she was not a shieldmaiden and was probably not that capable of defending herself. Looking at the bear, and back to the shortsword, he quickly stuck out his hand to her, opened hands to show her to remain at ease. “Lest you wish an early grave, that shortsword will not do much good unless you intend to walk into the bears paws.” In a quick motion, he used his free hand to quickly unhook the axe in the leather loop on his belt. Audrunar smirked at the hypocricy he had shown.. in one breath he tells Alva to stay her blade, in the next he draws a weapon that has much shorter range.

The bear unleashed another roar, inching closer to Jonrik rather than Faen, giving Faen an opportunity to escape if he was quick enough. The bear was tiring, but not tired enough to dwell off - if he had to he would kill, that much was certain. Audrunar's shield clunked with his axe for a moment, the bear moving his head to look at Audrunar once. If any member of the group was smart enough to notice, they might realize that the sounds and movements caught the bears attention, and use this to their profit to lure the beast away. On the other hand, it would be doubtful the bear would leave without any prize whatsoever. “What say you, Erika, shall we give it the deer? It's your catch, after all.”

Erika looked as though she’d been slapped, with a large dose of incredulity to go along with it. Audrunar was going to take a moment to insult her for cowardice, when she was faced with a massive bear? And she being the unarmed, fairly small girl that she was, what was she supposed to do? Fist fight it to protect her catch? There was bravery, and then there was stupidity. If Odin was angry with her for not pointlessly throwing her life away, then she didn’t know why she bothered offering prayers to him.

The others were doing what they could to either keep the bear distracted or drive it away, but they were having little success. Now Audrunar had his weapons drawn, and he was actually trying to draw the bear to himself. Erika subconsciously took a couple of steps away from him, though she did take her hatchet into hand. She didn’t intend on being entirely defenseless if it came after her again.

“Like I have any say in the matter?” she muttered, when Audrunar asked her if she were willing to give up the deer. “If it wants the deer, I can’t stop it. Let’s see your show of bravery, warrior. Give Odin something to laugh at.”

Erika was annoyed, obviously, mostly because she hadn’t expected Audrunar to say something so stinging to her, when she had seen no other sensible course of action, but if he wanted to fight the damn thing, she’d help how she could. She wasn’t a coward, even if Audrunar thought otherwise. She wasn’t a fool, either.

Jonrik arrived first, pushing his pretty bride away before also trying to distract the bears attention. The ursine monstrosity turned it’s shaggy head towards the blacksmith, giving the Lokison ample space to retreat, an opportunity he didn’t take advantage of. Contrary to popular opinion Faen was no coward. Sure he was more likely to run from a fight than to actually stand his ground, or to let an insult slide than to face the man who said it blade to blade.

That didn’t make him a coward though, that made him a realist. His strength wasn’t in his body, it was in his mind. So what if he didn’t stand his ground, he’d just pick better ground that suited him more. So what if he didn’t avenge every slight blade to blade, a knife in the back works just as well as a sword in the front.

That and he was stubborn. To stubborn to let the other exiles face this thing alone. No, he wouldn’t run, he just wouldn’t throw himself on the damn things claws either.

Audrunar, Faen’s favourite meat shield, approached, clanging his axe upon his actual shield. Very noble, planning on taking the bear face to face eh? Any other day that’s a fight I’d pay to see, but I’m afraid what our furry friend will do to us once it gets a taste for man flesh. Still, the beast swung again, this time to face the warrior. Strange, Jonrik was just as tasty a target, yet it began to ignore him.

Erika came out of the bush then, hatchet in hand. Faen could help but think she would have been better of remaining in hiding. This is man business after all fair huntress. Be a good girl and pay attention to gender divides, go hide in the bushes and watch us brave men get our faces torn off. She began to argue with Audrunar, terrific to see that someone else found him hard to stomach, but while they bickered the bear stood transfixed, swaying it’s head as each spoke, as if paying attention to the argument. No, not the words, it was the sounds. That would explain why it ignored Alva in favour of me, or Jonrik in favour of Audrunar, it is attracted to sound. Now how to use that?

“I, for one, am sick of providing amusement for the Gods. Why do they deserve all the fun? Why don’t we stop trying to get ourselves killed and wok together!” The Lokison shouted at the group, the bear once more turning in his direction, a snarl working its way past its yellow teeth as it ambled towards him. “It’s distracted by sound. Spread out and make noise, keep him confused and wrong footed.”

Faen’s plan, such as it was, was to use his companions as decoys as he darted in to retrieve Erika’s buck. If they managed to keep the bear off him he would then drag the huntress’s trophy to the river, pushing it in to the torrents and hoping the current would drag the beast away, with the bear in hot pursuit of its free meal. Of course there was a lot to go wrong with that admittedly feeble idea, but it was all he had to work with.

Now just to hope they listen to me. Suppose there’s a first time for everything.

Audrunar turned his face to Erika, giving her an angry look. “If it pleases you, huntress.” Audrunar inched forwards after argueing with Erika, closer to the bear, which was now turning to Faen as he began yelling out to the others. Perhaps.. if he could lure the bears attention away long enough, Audrunar could push his shield into it's side and push it away while hacking at it.. Right when Audrunar was about to push himself into the dirt to crash himself into the bear, Faen began mocking the gods. Audrunar angrily pointed his axe at Faen. “Don't mock the Gods. If we die, atleast we go to Valhalla. Well, some of us..” It was clear he was telling Faen off for not being brave enough, mocking him for being unable to go to Valhalla. However, the bear subtly walked towards Faen, slowly until it realized it was close enough.. then roared as he stood on his backpaws, swiping at Faen in sudden rage. The bear obviously had enough of this bickering and waiting - it wanted it's prize and at this moment Faen was the one yelling the loudest.

Audrunar sprung into action and jumped forwards, yelling and screaming; “ODIIIIIIIN!” as he swung his axe towards the bear, in an attempt to save Faen from impending death if he did not act soon enough. The axe barely did more than a scratch to the bear, cutting into his front left shoulder, but caused the bear to direct his anger towards Audrunar. Audrunar backed off a bit, but it was too late and the bear let itself fall onto Audrunar in an attempt to scratch, claw and bite him. Rather luckily for Audrunar, he managed to put the shield in between him and the bears mighty jaws, but fell over as a result from the impact between them, causing the bear to be standing over Audrunar who had his shield raised up to defend against the pounding of the shield. One of the strikes passed by the shield however, clawing into Audrunars thorax, making him wince in pain. Hopefully he had given Erika her wish by fighting the bear. In an attempt to strengthen his grip on the shield he put his other hand on the back as well, dropping his axe close to him but leaving him defenseless in the process.

“Faen.. Erika.. anyone! Lure this beast...” he paused for a second to let go of a grunt of strength as he tried to push the bear a bit further away, “.. lure it far away!” Soon enough the bear would realize he didn't have to pound the shield to get to Audrunar and would go for the legs or the hands. If anyone was to act, they'd better act fast.

Men.

Audrunar had charged the bear head on, and had gotten exactly what Erika had expected would happen: he was trapped under it, desperately trying not to die. That would have been Erika’s fate, no doubt, had she stayed put, and she had no shield to prevent the bear from clawing her guts out with. She felt a strong mix of emotions for Audrunar in that moment. Anger, for insulting her and calling her a coward; amusement, for his stupidity in taking on the bear in a straight up fight; and pity, for how terribly he was losing. She didn’t want him to die, of course, and it was this that spurred her into action, even as nervousness wormed its way around her empty belly.

Faen looked to be trying to do something with the deer, though she didn’t know what. Erika doubted Jonrik would leave his wife to drive the bear off, and she also doubted he’d let her be the one to try drawing it away; it was hard to run in a dress. That left just Erika, and she pulled her bow free, quickly launching an arrow into the bear’s neck, just above the shoulder.

“Hey, you! Yes you, you worthless, hairy piece of shit! Let’s go for a run. Come on, get off the idiot there and chase me!” Assuming the bear continued paying attention to noise and was drawn away by her shouting, in addition to the arrow she’d shot into him, Erika turned and headed quickly back into the forest. She had no intention of filling a bear’s belly tonight, but she couldn’t just let him claw Audrunar to death.

I wonder who the real idiot is here…

Of course Audrunar was the one to argue with logic. Should have just let him fight the bear. Faen couldn't help but give the raider an exasperated look. It was the kind of look that spoke volumes, that said 'By the God's, your so stupid that being around you makes me actually feel slightly stupider myself.' Faen would later attribute this bizarre stupidity causality decreasing his usual sharp skills of observation as the reason for what happened next.

The bear snuck up on him. Quite how it managed the feat, being over four hundred pounds of raw muscle and stinking fur on clear ground, he wasn't quite sure but it did. The beast went up on hind legs, a deep roar that seemed to rumble up from the depths of Hel tearing from its mouth as it swung it's paws in a strike at him. More luck than skill had him already back peddling away from the attack, but the back of the beasts arm still caught him. It was a glancing blow, little more, but it still hurt like the last days of Ragnarok, sending him carthwheeling away. He squawked as he hit the ground, a lay their dazed and confused, out of the fight for a while.

Jonrik

Jonrik, on the balls of his feet with his ax held firmly in his grasp, watched as his and his companion's situation deteriorated as it progressed. His eyes darted to Alva at the flash of steel when she drew her blade, but the abject terror on her face made it clear she at least wasn't going to charge headlong at the beast. Jonrik jumped back slightly, but flapped his arms again as the bear shifted in his direction. He didn't really know what he planned to do once the bear chose him as its target, however. The only goal he had was to get it away from Alva. Thankful, the sound of Audrunar rasping his ax on his shield drew its attention.

The bear pivoted its large head back and forth from Erika to Audrunar when they started bickering. This was not the best time for such a thing, but it did a good job at distracting the bear. At this point, Jonrik began to wonder if he should take a swipe at the bear's back while it was turned. He didn't know if injuring the bear would make their chances worse, or if there was no other way to get rid of it than to kill it. A bear would have a lot of useful fat to render, he couldn't help but to think, and that would help them this upcoming winter, but Jonrik seriously doubted they would make it through that encounter without some loss.

Sudden yelling made Jonrik's head snap to Faen, and watched as the bear switched targets to the Lokison and started to walk towards him. Faen called out that the bear was attracted to sound, and Jonrik instantly tried to will Alva into going and hiding in the woods without a sound. In a quick movement, the bear went for Faen and Audrunar went for the bear. The bear quickly had the man subdued, and Jonrik wondered briefly if he was going to die. He took his ax in both hands; once it killed one man, it would want others. Jonrik, holding his mouth shut to be quiet, planned to strike the bear on the back, hopefully somewhere near the spine to end this debacle. He slowly edged behind the beast. Just before he raised his arms, an arrow flew true to its mark and hit the beast in the neck. Jonrik heard Erika calling for the bear, taunting it, and she disappeared into the woods.

Jonrik had taken a few slow, silent steps closer to the bear while Audrunar had had it distracted. Now, he stood with his arms half-raised a few feet behind it, trying to decide his best option, hoping hesitation wouldn't cost his life. If the bear went and followed Erika, he would leave it be. If not, he'd take a hack at the monster's back.

Alva

Alva stood, close to the treeline, the farthest of the group from the bear. Her shortsword trembled in her hands. Alva had rarely been in situations so dire. She was young and, frankly, inexperienced. She had gone to battle, but that was behind her husband against foes she could meet with her blade. Looking down at her meager sword, Alva had no intention of attacking the bear herself. The sword was in case it decided to come to her. Not that she thought she had much of a chance.

"Lest you wish an early grave, that shortsword will not do much good unless you intend to walk into the bears paws." Audrunar said back to her, and Alva barked a laugh from between her bit lips. She didn't say anything in response, but shook her head ambiguously. As if she would attack the giant, angry, hungry bear! She fidgeted nervously as the bear waited, the length of the encounter grating on the girl's spent nerves. She edged further from Erika and Audrunar as they started arguing and drawing the bear's attention. Alva thought to try and get to her pack to get her fire materials, but knew that the process of making a torch was too long and something would happen before she managed to get a torch lit; that, and she was too scared of risking the bear's attention.

When Audrunar was finally pinned by the beast, quite fast to Ava who was half paying attention to her comrades and half being mesmerized by terror, she skirted sideways along the treeline. She watched from a respectable distance, whimpering quietly as Jonrik edged closer to the bear and Audrunar called for help. She had no quarrel with Audrunar, but there was no way she was calling that beast toward her just to save him. Alva didn't want to seem cowardly, but in truth was very afraid of the bear. It wasn't the bear itself that scared her so much as the fact she couldn't do anything about it. She had no idea how to face it. She justified to herself that she would've just gotten in the men's way as they dealt with the threat. She watched on and licked her lips nervously, heart pounding.

The bear stomped on Audrunars shield, resulting in heavy sighing and grunting from his end. It was about to give a final stomp when it suddenly roared again. It was then that Audrunar noticed the arrow in it's pelt, and blood slowly trickling from it's fresh wound. The bear pushed itself away on the shield and ran after Erika. It wasn't fast, as it's enormous size was a slowdown, but he would manage to keep up with Erika somewhat.

Audrunar was relieved, his arms beginning to hurt from the sheer weight of the beast pounding on them with it's paws. He shot a quick glance at Faen to see if he was okay, however he didn't see much. “Faen, are you okay?” Audrunar laid his head back on the ground for a second before he realized that Erika must've ran off with the bear, something that didn't even cross his mind yet. He shot back up, and grabbed his shield again. Taking a look around, he saw that Jonrik made no attempts to chase and Alva was cowering in the distance. Faen was out of commision for a while, it seemed. Just now when his trickery would be useful. Audrunar felt no particular way about them not giving chase, Jonrik had his wife to care for after all, Alva was not a warrior and Faen got hit by a bear. He probably was off worse than Audrunar, from the looks of it.

The wound in Audrunar's thorax was still bloody, but it wasn't spurting out so he decided he'd have to go help Erika, as he owed her that much. Instead of grabbing the axe, which in all honesty was quite useless in this situation, he ran back to where he had dropped his javelin earlier, took it from the ground and gave chase to the bear and Erika, following the tracks in the mud. Now, he was no expert tracker but the bear was hard to miss, the mix of human and bear prints made it rather obvious where they went. However, Audrunar knew and saw that Erika ran faster than he could since she had such a nimble figure. In ways, Audrunar could be jealous of that. Before he left, he shouted out a task in an almost commandeering way. He didn't mean to, but it came out that way regardless. “Get started on that fire! It will work better than axes and fish I imagine, in case it wanders back here. And one of you two..” He looked at Jonrik and Alva quickly, “please take a look at Faen, I'm not sure if he's ok.” He left the task open for anyone that wanted to do it, but also figured they would've done so regardless.

None of the group really knew the lay of the land in this area, so what Erika didn't know was that she was running straight into a corner where she couldn't possibly maneuver out of the bears way. What she probably could tell was that she was running slightly uphill, as one can feel this easily in the way they walk. Some five hundred meters from her the treeline stopped, and ended up in a small cliffside overlooking the river that the group was camping at. Now, this cliff wasn't as high and one could survive the fall if they were lucky enough were it not for the rocks in the river below the cliff that would break your bones when you fell, making it almost impossible to swim. This would, sooner or later, result in drowning. That is if you were unlucky enough to not suffer a quick death from the fall itself.

If she didn't alter her path, the bear would trap Erika in this cliff side leaving three options.. jump, wait for the best or fight. And with her ability to run faster than Audrunar, he wouldn't arrive to their location soon enough to help her with the latter, so she could merely attempt to scare the bear away with her arrows, or get a very lucky shot in. Even the best archers in Scandinavia would have troubles shooting a moving bear straight in the heart.