Björn sat outside the small cabin that was his refuge from the winter weather in the wilderness; chewing on some dried meat, as his eyes looked out over the frozen tundra. He had already been out there for two days; the oldest son of Ragnar, hoping that his traps would have caught something, when he went to check them, so that he would have some fresh meat that evening.

The snow had begun to fall thick and fast from the moment he had trudge his way to the old hunter's cabin; the young man not able to venture too far in hopes of finding food. Not able to go out and check the nearby river, in hopes that he could go ice fishing; but today, seeing as the sky was only filled with the lightest flurry of snow, he knew that he would have to get out and properly get his bearings. For this was where he would be staying until he felt as though he had proved that he could survive; not only to himself, but to his father too.

Finally, he got to his feet, pushing his dagger and axe into his belt, before pulling his fur coat a little tighter around his form, then venturing out to see if anything had fallen prey to his traps, or whether they had been buried by the heavy snow falls. Björn hoping that it was not the latter, or it would mean another night of eating the few little bits of dried meat that he had brought with him.

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He couldn't help but think that perhaps he should have made a sacrifice, before he had ventured out into the wilderness. Björn shaking his head as he dug through the snow for yet another of his traps. This was the fourth one that had been buried, and apparently the fourth one that would not be giving him anything. Björn sitting down in the snow, his back pressed up against one of the trees, as he found the trap and just looked at it. He couldn't go back to Kattegat, wouldn't go back to Kattegat until he had proved that he was a man. He would not face his father until he showed him that he was also a force to be reconned with. But if this continued, it would seem like he was to starve to death, before he got to prove anything to anyone.

Then he saw something. A movement out of the corner of his eye. Björn reaching for his axe, hoping that something larger than a hare had ventured out into the snow. The son of Lagertha moving down behind the tree, waiting to get a proper view of his prey, before he moved. Yet as he watched, what came into view was no animal; but, and much to his surprise, another person. Their body covered by a hooded coat of pure white furs. Furs that were so pale, that this other person, almost disappeared into the snow that surrounded them. Björn continuing to view the man from his hiding place, as he made his way through the drifts, in the other direction of his own cabin, pulling behind him a small sled with the carcass of a large roe deer. The blood of the creature leaving a trail in the snow.

Björn sat back. It was true that he was in the wild to prove that he could survive; that he was a true Viking and a man. Yet couldn't negotiating with another hunter be seen as just another way of proving that he could survive? If he could speak to the man, perhaps barter something he had, for some of the deer meat; if he could get information as to where he himself might be able to find such animals, then that would be fair, wouldn't it............? Björn getting to his feet, as he decided that following the other man would be of benefit to him. Yet if they could not negotiate, he made sure that his axe was placed firmly in belt.

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The son of Ragnar had followed the thin trail of red, through the large drifts of snow; only stopping as a cabin nestled in between some trees, came into view. It was brighter than the one that he had found, it obvious that it was not just something that was used during to warmer months, when the grass was lush and the game, plentiful, no; this was something that appeared to be lived in, year-round. A home. The smoke coming from the hole in the roof, bringing with it the smell of already roasting deer. The odour making Björn's stomach grumble in protest, pushing the young Norseman forward.

Hesitantly, he raised his hand, as he stood before the door. It was hard to say what kind of reception the other man might give him. If this hunter spent all of his time in the wilderness, it seemed obvious that he did not like the company of other and may have even been driven a little mad by his isolation; yet Björn would not know unless he knocked.

"Who are you, and why did you follow me..........?" A voice asked, before Björn's hand could touch the door. The eldest son of Ragnar slowly turning at the sound. The voice not of a man, as he had expected; but of a woman. Raising his hands as he found an arrow pointed right at his forehead.

"Speak. Or should I let my arrow fly..........?"

"Björn.......My name is Björn. Son of Ragnar Lothbrok, Earl of Kattegat. And I followed you as I hope to barter for some of the deer that you have. I have a small cabin not far from here, and even though I did not bring much with me. If you have need of anything........." Björn explained. His words forgotten as the bow was lowered, and the woman removed the fur hood from her head. The breath leaving his body, as he looked upon her perfect face; her skin so pale that it was almost blue, and her hair was as white as the furs that covered her body. The young Norseman sure that he was looking at something that had come from anywhere but Midgard.

"There is no need to barter. If you have need of food, I have more than enough for both of us. You are welcome to be my guest, son of Ragnar........" She told him before making her way to the door of the cabin.

"And you.......how am I to address my gracious host.......?" Björn enquired. His body feeling as though it were on fire, despite the cold, as she stood next to him.

"I am (Y/n), daughter of Höðr........" She explained, before making her way into the cabin.