“Aye —- as pitiful as a wet dog.”

Thor would mumble, tossing his axe back to the ground, its blade cutting into grass with a hardened thud. “You may come from hiding, stranger. They will not bother thee now.”

Now at his full Godly height —- Thor reaches for his axe. Taking it from
The ground with a minor ‘thunk.’

“Tell me, what has she done to deserve this fate?”

“Ah. My brother deals in magic. He is truly unkind too. For moments. . .now that I think of it he has not reached out to me. .anyways, this woman —- this mage.

You did not mention one thing of what she’s done wrong.” He stands, his red cape shifts along his broad shoulders. (c)

There’s tension building, Fang raises his head in a very goatly moan, then moves off into the bushes.

“This woman. What may she look like?”

“Depends.”

Thor says, stoking the fire, he turns the deer meet once more —- it needed to cook on its opposite side. ‘Depends on?’ Says the stranger. “What thee plans to do with her. If I were to give her up?”

They don’t like that, and they shuffle some where they stand. (c)

“‘Morning? —- I fear I’m not. Oh. HA.

. . .well no. However my does rise. But that is not what I meant.”

Thor shoots a side glance towards the other. “Someone with beauty such as thee should surely not be in trouble. Unless I am mistaken.”

“These troubles that follow —- do they come here now, to thy camp?”

“Heh.”

Thor gave off a laugh. Although now he could hear the foot steps too, and his axe Jarnbjorn sings to him from a few feet away. “Aye. I know what you crave.” He says in a whisper to the weapon. (c)

Fang lowered his head, returning to his pot of feed, munching silently into the night.

‘Although thy goat is not the best judge of character.’ He shifted some where he sat. ‘Who is it you hide from?’