#rivervale_lodge

"Man's got taste." Olgar says , then asks "YOu find out about that math paper?"

She grunts. "I'll get the score back Monday."

"Okay. Watch if you want, or head home if you need to. I got it from here" Olgar says

"Maybe one episode. I'll get home when Jaymes is done at the store."

"Sounds good..." ANd the episode goes on. Cowboy swagger

No doubt, a certain healer will take over this when she gets here...but for now? Texas Ranger!

Some time later (perhaps after an episode or more), the dogs set up a baying, and soon footsteps are heard approaching. The door opens, and the Chieftain steps inside, shaking her head with lingering annoyance. "Every year...."

She notices the wilder rookie rover asleep near the fire, fresh stitching on his chest

ANd Olgar is watching a DVD, Walker, Texas Ranger "Hey , Chief. "

She looks up and over and...frowns. "What happened?" She sets down her axe and approaches the 'Fire.

"Hastein here got lured off a trod with a fake trod. I busted his chops for it, but it's easy to do when you hear someone screaming for help. Someone he thought he knew at that. I came after... we got swamped. Lord what's his face...well, his goons."

Frank follows Brekke in, carrying bags. He sets them down to take off his boots and jacket, assessing as he does.

She looks over the wound and the stitching, careful not to wake the wounded wilder.

"Who sewed him up? Was it you?"

Looks nasty. "Yeah. I know the basics" He says "Showed Dagmar some basics. My god, for a girl who'd rather have a fang pulled than re do a math problem she wants to learn"

Brekke notices that Olgar is using a chair, but does not have his back to it.

Well, the wound looks nasty, the stitching is fine.

A quiet hmph. "She will be very skilled at what she feels is worthy of her time and effort. If she shows interest, Olgar, teacher her as much as you can." She's still focused on the wilder. "What kind of 'goons'?"

"Thallian, some dark kin..again." He says

A sharp look at him at that, then a look to Frank.

Frank has come over as well. "What kind?"

"Firbholg, not THE one we're worrying about, but one of them, a couple of Nasties...those are satyr thallian, and an ogre... the THALLIAN version of Ogre...guy could hit. Oh, and a goblin with a weedwhacker with barbed wire lacing, but Duff got him"

"DUFF?!?!"

"Is Jessica ok? Where is she??"

"Jessica wasn't with him...he took some ice off the great fjord of Rivervale. Not sure why." Olgar says "That's why he came here. He stumbled onto us....arguably rescued our asses. I'm FINE thanks"

"Off the fjord?" She frowns, puzzled...but prioritizes. She levels her hand over the wilder's chest, and mutters:

"We walk into the world unblemished,
but we soon find that the world lashes out.
not a life passes
in which a cut is not felt–
be it as light as a paper
or as deep as a sword–
leaving us with unshakeable scars."

Almost instantly, the wilder breathes easier, and falls into a deeper sleep. His wound reverting to just a few scars, lucky bastard, it just adds to his appearance.

She nods with satisfaction, then looks over at Olgar suspiciously. "Now...you are not 'fine' I think."

Frank heads to the phone closet, muttering.

"This is why no one likes your house, you know that right?" Olgar says

Then Olgar looks at the moving Frank, "Jessica wasn't with him." Repeating "She's not in danger, not here anyway"

A slight grin. "Do you want me to help, or do you want to wait for your wife?"

"Still want to hear it from her!"

"You're a mean one, Chief. Sure sure..." He pulls his shirt off his back. Spear wound...it was barbed, did more damage coming out than going in. Fortunately nothing crucial

The removal of the shirt threats to get it bleeding again

"Frank...just check that she is well. Do not tell her Duff was here. It is not our business." She seems unhappy to say it, though.

Olgar can hear Brekke sigh in irritation as she views the wound.

Frank grunts; it might be agreement, or not.

"He's unseelie, he's got his passions and he's gonna follow em" Olgar says "As for the Fjord, Chieftain, I think YOU dreamt it. IT looks a lot like pictures of Norway"

"Mm. Likely. Since our Dreaming journey, when I saw the land again on the way out, it has come to me when I sleep." A pause. "This is ugly, but not serious, as you say. Let me think...." A pause.

Mumbling from the closet.

"Well, see Chief, you're tied to this fief, an in the dreaming that tie is more pronounced. So your dreams manifest there."

"It makes sense. But still...to leave such a mark on the Dreaming as a fjord? It is...I do not have the words." He can almost hear her shake her head. "Olgar, this will hurt. Brace yourself."

He braces himself

Her fingers suddenly pinch the flesh of the wound together as she hums a long, low, resonant tone. She pinches hard and holds, the tone drawing out and becoming louder....

A close mouthed 'mmm'. Tensing. But nothing more

"Ok, then. Good to hear your voice. Yes, I'll tell her. Ok. Love you too. Bye."

A sudden twist and a burst of heat, and the edges are crimped together and quickly healing.

"Okay, a suspicious man might wonder if that bunk was done because of the Dig against House Gwydion" He rubs at the back, "Still, thanks"

"The Dreaming didn't want poetry for you," she explains. "It will have the bunk it demands." She hands him back his shirt and looks to Frank. "She is well?"