( No further sound emerges from the brush for some time. Lagertha, however, remains in position. With her shield gripped firmly in her left hand and the spear in her right, she is well-armed for a fight, whether it be with an animal or another person. There is a stillness in the air, a distinct lack of birdsong and the chirping of insects which indicates strongly to her senses that something (or someone) is out there. Whichever it is, she definitely isn't alone. Now, she can either attempt to flank them or circle around behind until she is downwind and strike then.
But she errs on the side of caution, knowing full-well that she doesn't know this terrain well in the slightest. One misstep could see her in any number of situations she'd much rather avoid. Patience tends to pay off anyway. That is definitely true now, as she can just barely hear something move ahead of her; a rustling of leaves, the smell of fresh earth rising in the air. She pushes her spear forward, taking on a position by which to more effectively defend herself—
and is faced with both the last and the best person she might ever hope to be trapped in this place with. The breath leaves her lungs in a long gush of air, ghosting before her in the cold stillness of the forest. Lagertha could smile. She could laugh. Hell, she might even be forgiven for running straight into his arms and laying one on him. All of these and more certainly are tempting. But what she ends up doing? Well, it involves running, certainly.
However, she runs at him like a woman going to war, and she only drops her weapons (smartly, she thinks) when she is within a four foot radius of him. Then, she takes a leap at him, a flying tackle that would leave lesser men senseless. Not him, though. Lagertha is counting on it. Her fist rises in the air, aimed dead-staright at his gut, a smack she thinks he well-deserves. )
You made me lose my prey! ( Her words are hissed from between clenched teeth, pride causing her to tip her chin up and the weak sunlight filtering through the canopy to catch and flash in her eyes. She is.. so very relieved to see him here. The priest must be with their children, she assures herself of this.
Which is why she feels quite justified in another attempt to hit him. He can take it, right? Or he can turn it around on her, like he tends to enjoy doing so much. Either way, she can't complain. They'll catch that bloody board and find their way home. Nothing is impossible when they're together. )
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But she errs on the side of caution, knowing full-well that she doesn't know this terrain well in the slightest. One misstep could see her in any number of situations she'd much rather avoid. Patience tends to pay off anyway. That is definitely true now, as she can just barely hear something move ahead of her; a rustling of leaves, the smell of fresh earth rising in the air. She pushes her spear forward, taking on a position by which to more effectively defend herself—
and is faced with both the last and the best person she might ever hope to be trapped in this place with. The breath leaves her lungs in a long gush of air, ghosting before her in the cold stillness of the forest. Lagertha could smile. She could laugh. Hell, she might even be forgiven for running straight into his arms and laying one on him. All of these and more certainly are tempting. But what she ends up doing? Well, it involves running, certainly.
However, she runs at him like a woman going to war, and she only drops her weapons (smartly, she thinks) when she is within a four foot radius of him. Then, she takes a leap at him, a flying tackle that would leave lesser men senseless. Not him, though. Lagertha is counting on it. Her fist rises in the air, aimed dead-staright at his gut, a smack she thinks he well-deserves. )
You made me lose my prey! ( Her words are hissed from between clenched teeth, pride causing her to tip her chin up and the weak sunlight filtering through the canopy to catch and flash in her eyes. She is.. so very relieved to see him here. The priest must be with their children, she assures herself of this.
Which is why she feels quite justified in another attempt to hit him. He can take it, right? Or he can turn it around on her, like he tends to enjoy doing so much. Either way, she can't complain. They'll catch that bloody board and find their way home. Nothing is impossible when they're together. )