Oh Pooh... bear

Sylvia couldnt help but chuckle at the state of her battle partner; his once beautiful pearly white hairs were matted and stained with the bears stomach contents, and as if that wasn't enough, the look on his face when he realized it too made her laugh harder. It was refreshing, battling foes with someone so capable. Her violet eyes couldn't help but light up with a spark when she eyed his deadly horns. All she could think about was how useful they would be in combat against other creatures, especially other wolves. It would be then that she decided, come hell or high water, Sylvia was going to get her own killer rack. Her gaze swiftly dropped down to his face as he thanked her, though if he only knew her true purpose for helping today, he may not have thanked her at all. "Heh, no problem." She grinned, shrugging off any praise as she did not feel entitled to it. He was the one to deliver the final blow, after all. 

So, Álarr was this handsome man's name. It was odd but fitting and the more she played with it the more she liked it. "Álarr. Strong name for a handsome warrior. Though after this, they should be calling you Bear Slayer." She grinned, eyes flashing to the carcass just feet from them. It was an honorable title, one that the viking woman would be proud to carry. Perhaps one day, she would. Her grin only widened when he asked for her name, to which she replied with a warm smile: "Sylvia Ada Bjork, at your service." She playfully bowed, chuckling as she raised her crown and leaned back to sit on her haunches. She let out a hiss when a sting in her side erupted once more, alerting to her that her wound was indeed still there, and would not be forgotten. Instead of investigating further, the woman simply laid with her affected leg kicked out, easing the pain. "But most wolves call me Sylvia or Sylvie."

Her interest peaked for the first time since venturing to this new world, Sylvia would lean in as she spoke once more, her attention fully captivated by the male before her. "Tell me, Álarr, what the hell did you do to piss off that bear?" Her mind was racing with possible answers, some more hilarious than others. Perhaps he had quite literally poked the bear while it slept, hoping it was still hibernating, but obviously not. Or maybe he tried to snatch one of its cubs for an easy meal, and mama bear wouldn't allow it. Reglarless, the russet woman wanted to know, and more importantly, she wanted to learn more about this Bear Slayer.