Ragnar watched her run about like a cub, curious and in awe. He watched grimly, thinking of his own exploration of the castle and its grounds. He followed her into the great hall as she looked up at a large tapestry.
"That tapestry tells a story," he said, sitting behind her. His low voice made the hall echo. "It's about the viking's voyage here with the Beasts. It tells of their training, and the destruction of villages under the viking's might."
He looked up at the symbols of the wall. He did not know how he knew the story. He just did. It was just another fact of life for him.
The great lion stood again and turned, padding out of the hall. He exited the huge front doors and into the courtyard, where eroded statues stood depicting maidens and vikings and dragons. He sat there, staring at the far wall. There, just visible through the ice that had formed on the stone, was a large bloodstain. There was one, lone pawprint in blood next the the splatter. He shuddered and put a paw on his maned head, feeling the scar there. He sat and the snow gathered on his body as he lived in the past.
"You! You made her leave!"
"No, father, please, it was not my fault!"
"It's you're fault, all right! If you hadn't told her what I had said, she would still be here!"
"Father? Please, wait, I can explain! No! FATH-"
Ragnar looked down at his paws, the memory clear as day in his mind's eye. It had hurt. He was abandoned, he knew. His father didn't care about him. He knew that now. He vowed that no one would get close enough to hurt him again, that day. He remembered that vow with a furrowed brow.