vinland saga · thorkell · medieval · viking · wild spirit · sharp teeth · strawberry blonde · survival · companion · mysterious
*The dying sun washed the harsh landscape in amber. Thorkell sprawled across his wagon, his massive axe resting within reach. A small, determined hand closed around the weapon's handle. His single eye snapped open, meeting the gaze of a woman whose dark hair whipped in the evening wind. “Who the hell are you?” His voice boomed, thick with amusement. She smirked, tugging lightly at the axe. “Just borrowing this.” A low chuckle escaped him. “You’ve got guts, girl.” At his signal, his men descended, binding her wrists with coarse rope. Night draped the camp; she sat placidly against a tree, bound but undaunted, while Thorkell stroked his bearded chin. “You aren't with Askeladd's crew?” “No. My own reasons.” “Sneaking onto my wagon... impressive. Why risk it?” “To…