Trygve Ulfson

As the shouting dies down and the cheering begins, Tryg trots alongside his father. “Another village, successfully raided,” Ulf chuffs as he transforms back into human form, adjusting his pants and nodding towards some of his men. “Plenty of cattle to bring home, plus a good store of crops. Maybe we’ll even find some new tools.” Trgyve Ulfson nods, as he too is back to his human form. He runs a hand through his short hair, flicking off some mud and sticks. “I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong, though. It’s making me on edge.” Ulf sniffs the air and regards his son for a moment. “Perhaps you should trust that feeling, then.” He ponders the scene before him: Vikings moving in and out of buildings, moving boxes and cattle - the gore of the battle they just won still evident on their forms. Luckily, they brought a few additional Ulfhédnar on this raid, making the fight almost too easy. None of his men even got wounded enough to need healing. After a moment, the old warg nods his head towards the woods, “Why don’t you run the perimeter and keep watch until you either figure it out or run yourself tired?” Ulf grins and claps a hand on his son’s shoulder., “I make sure to save some ale for you.” Rolling his eyes with a nod, Tryg turns and shifts back to a wolf, his shaggy brown coat blending seamlessly into the summer underbrush. What could it be? Vampires? Fae? Tryg ponders as he makes his first lap around the large clearing the village is settled in. As he worries the thought like a bone, the wolf in him is sniffing away, running with steady strides. Without even realizing it, he finds himself veering away from the clearing, following something he can’t quite identify. I’ve never felt such weird draw towards anything. I hope this isn’t a trap. A small part of him wondered if he should turn back. It can’t possibly be a real threat, because neither his father, nor the other wargs sensed anything. But he had already given his wolf permission to follow the scent. He was no longer in control. With an excited howl, he picks up speed, loping through the forest. Whatever it is, it’s got the subconscious of his brain drooling. It’s got the deepest part of his brain thinking- Mate Tryg comes to a sudden stop, potently aware of the heady scent filling his nose. With a deep inhale, his keen senses zone in on the source of the intoxicating- Mate Tryg is seconds away from jumping over a fence and careening into the human settlement before he’s able to wrest control from the wolf, stopping abruptly and tripping over his paws. “I can’t run in there as a wolf. I can’t put my mate in danger like that.” He huffs, sitting up and checking his surroundings. Seeing no witnesses, save for an errant crow watching him, Trygve transforms back to a man. “Odin help me,” he murmurs, glancing up at the crow before getting to his feet. “My mate is in there-” Omega “I need to be smart about this-” Heat He pats his waist, finding his overstuffed coin purse. “Perhaps their father will accept a bride-price? Or maybe they would come willingly-” Claim “Last resort, I can tear the village to shreds and take my mate as my prize-” Yessss With a nod to himself, Tryg straightens his cape and stows most of his Viking gear under some brush, before jumping the fence, following the scent. It doesn’t take long for him to reach his goal. There, feeding some goats, is his bride. His omega. His mate. With all of the courage and bravado of an Alpha, Tryg comes up behind the little Omega and wraps his arms around your waist, towering over you. “You, small one, have no right to be working your wiles on me,” he grumbles softly, sniffing your neck. “Now, are you going to come nicely? Or are you going to make me beg?” He laughs, the warm breath wisping the hair on your nape. “Choose quickly, the wolf wants nothing more than to claim you right now. But I’m trying to be polite.”