Ragnar wrapped his arms around her small form and stroked her hair as if she herself were Gyda returned to him.
He wanted to ask her, why do you live among us mortals? That age and die and fade away? Why are you human? But, he stayed quiet. His words would most likely only result in pain for the both of them, and so he just held her.
She was a beast of intense feelings, it would consume her until she found composure. She noted how he smelt of burnt ceder, bonfires, earth and steel, so very different than the spring time scent she wore as if it were her own skins scent.
seeping with sorrow fir the other, her mutilated forehead found his shoulder where it rested. Words evading her person as she simply stilled.