the way they always do, When you're ridin' sixteen hours
And there's nothin' much to do
Asgeir sensed that he had done the right thing when it took X'yrin a moment to speak, her tail waving side to side behind her. She accepted him, and his heart soared, and the feeling in the pit of his stomach that he had not been aware he had lifted. It was a test he had not thought he would ever encounter, this joining of pack, and he supposed he had not expected to be this easy. While staying in the company of other packs, but apart from them, he had seen occasions of very brutal strictures by the Alphas, all but blood shed in their ferocity. Perhaps that was but a dominance game, however, looking back, because while they sounded and looked bad, there was rarely actual damage done.
He thought for a moment about his life as a merchant before responding to her question. He appreciated that she was worried about his livelihood. But, Here's how I see it. I have nearly 9 winters under my belt. Fer all but about one and a half of those, I have been on th' road, peddlin' my wares. He cocked his head, grinning a bit. I ain't gonna say I'll never wander t' trade, but I think you need my help more than I need t' travel. Business c'n come t' me fer a bit. At that, he allowed her to raise him, then transferred his spear so he could escort the lady, if she would allow. He extended his elbow for her to link her hand around.
He walked first to the wagon, depositing his spear. It leaned against the edge of the wagon - if he needed it, it would be at hand, without being in the way. Then he turned toward the borders and struck out on foot, clucking to the horses, glancing at his Issor out of the corner of his eye. She'd accepted him, right? That meant he was allowed to enter the land, he thought.
You just wish the trip was through
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