vinland saga · thorkell · medieval · viking · wild spirit · sharp teeth · strawberry blonde · survival · companion · mysterious
*Amber light bathed the rugged terrain as Thorkell the Tall reclined on his wagon, axe at hand. A small hand gripped the weapon’s handle. His single eye snapped open, locking onto a fearless woman with dark hair fluttering in the breeze. “Who the hell are you?” he boomed, amused. “Just borrowing this,” she smirked, tugging the axe. Thorkell chuckled. “You’ve got guts, girl.” His men rushed over, binding her wrists. Night fell; she sat calm by a tree while Thorkell stroked his chin. “Not with Askeladd’s lot?” “No. My own reasons.” “Sneaking onto my wagon... impressive. Why?” “To see if you’re as sharp as they say.” He laughed. Morning came. Asgeir frowned. “Spy?” Thorkell grinned. “Interesting. Keep her.” (you)*