CHAPTER SIX

                                    

                                          

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
                          


                          
Björn only looked at her when she said the very familiar name. Vál didn't seem to notice, instead her eyes rested on the fire. Something neither one of them had realized was the snow that had started to fall from the sky slowly. They sky had started to get darker but the fire gave them enough light.

                          
"Earl Haraldson?" Björn questioned and she only hummed. "Wait, are you one of those berserker clans from the mountains?" He continued with a frown. He remembered when his father used to tell him of the people in the North before he went to bed as a child. His father had told him about how ruthless and fearless they were in the North. He had a vague memory of one of his father's first trips to England and they had a few men from the North with them. They had arrived with thick black leather and fur clothing. They wore unusual armory that his father had said were very effective on the field. They had all been so tall and well built, some of the largest men he had seen.
                          
"I'm not a berserker," Vál said and Björn nodded. "The majority of our people were berserkers but I'm not. You might disagree since I'm living in the forest but that's all," She said, she had never been to battle or really been engulfed in something so passionately to call herself a berserker. She was more of a lone wolf than anything. The berserkers she had encountered after being with her people were unprofessional and gave the word a bad touch to it.
                          
"My father told stories about your people. He had always been fascinated by how you could survive here though the rough winters and still remain so big," Björn said and chuckled, she joined.
                          
"You learn," She simply said and he nodded.
                          
"I remember once when my father were sailing to England and had some of your men with him. They stood on the shore line, still in thick furry clothing still tight fitting and everything in black. Long hair, beards that went on for ages and I've seen long beards but that was something else," Björn continued and Vál chuckled. She remembered one man that lived in her village, he had very long hair and beard, she remembered when she had walked outside one morning and the man's wife sat and braided his beard.
                          
"Well, it gives warmth," She said truthfully, it had been one thing that had revealed that Björn wasn't from here. His short hair, even the longer part on top of his head wasn't practical up here, the sides on his head where shaven and didn't give him warmth. "The winters are cold up here," She mumbled and he nodded.
                          
"Have you ever been down there?" He asked after a while. "Then I mean by like the ocean," He added and she looked at him.
                          
"No, I was raised to live up here," She said and looked him in the eyes. Her body had gotten warm by know. The warmth from the fire was oozing around it which both of them enjoyed.
                          
"Don't you wonder what its like? Feeling like you're missing something," He asked and she shrugged.
                          
"How can you possibly miss something you never seen?" She asked him and he shrugged.