She had found herself dropped in the home of the gods. How fitting. Týr once he realized she was not some mindless, stupid beast had accepted her without hesitation into the ranks and now she was on the mend. Still the caribou limped, badly, her leg swollen she was doing what she could, grazing regularly on herbs that would help her body fend off the infection now that the splinters and dirt were cleaned from the puncture.
That had been a hellish and long procedure.
But she was free and able to roam Storm reach now and even though every step hurt she knew she had to prevent the muscles from becoming wasting away or falling stiff and unwilling to move. Being new herself, she knew not who had come and went from Skjǫldrheim, even when his scent was not so fresh as other residence. But Freydís approached the golden wolf like any other; and without hesitation she came on his right ❝ Svo mörg ný andlit ❞ she commented with a flick of her ear.
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❝ speech ❞