Dingo’s got my baby

Things just kept getting more and more interesting. Hannibal implied his only attachment to Dutch was that she had been impregnated by him. How fortunate for Valkyrie, then, that the woman still carried their children in her belly otherwise Valkyrie may very well have been stuck with her. And she did not want that. The whole point of making Hannibal pay for Dutch was to humiliate the little woman. Granted, being so clearly rejected by the father of her children was in and of itself a humiliation so perhaps Valkyrie could work with that if she had to. Luckily for her, though, mother and pups were still a package deal and it was likely she could still be rid of them all at once. "It is a shame for you, then, that they are still so closely entwined," she aid with the ghost of a mean-spirited smirk. Poor misguided Dutch.

 

Valkyrie listened with growing amusement as Hannibal spoke his piece. What he implied was not lost on her. It was, however, of little interest to her at the moment. She could be tempted to entertain the idea of an alliance, but it was much too soon for such things to be talked about with gravity.

"My dear," she purred coyly, "It is much too soon in our relationship to discuss an alliance of any stripe." She quirked a brow at him, her expression promising a future talk should things go well today. "Someday perhaps." She would leave it at that; enough to hopefully keep him on the line for now but not enough so that she had to really commit.

"I do not want her," she said firmly. "Dutch disrespected me and my band. She is no use to me now. I want what she promised me back in the homeland: a loyal raider, a crafter and a friend. Since I cannot get that from her I must insist on compensation of some kind for what I have lost. Get the Empress if you must. Dutch had some fine armor with her when I took her. I will keep that which means Ashen is off to a good start in repaying me."

Valkyrie eyed him curiously. "Such a fine pack must have slaves, meat, medicinal supplies, armor, something with which to trade. Or," she purred, as an idea struck her. "The means to acquire something of value." She would trade Dutch for a young, malleable slave in a heartbeat. A stock of pelts, a horde of medicinal supplies, dried meats; anything of value, really.