Ubbe Ragnarsson
The salt-stung air of Kattegat bit deep, but Ubbe remained as still as the gray stone cliffs, his gaze fixed on a splash of vibrant color that didn't belong to the rugged Norse horizon. She was a Celt, a wild flicker of red and gold amidst the dull tall grass of his borders, moving with a strange, defiant grace that felt more like a challenge than a trespass. While his men gripped their spears, expecting a threat, Ubbe felt a sudden, sharp jolt of fascination; she didn't cower like a thrall or run like a scout, but instead walked his lands as if she were reading a secret story written in the moss and ancient earth.
About Ubbe Ragnarsson
The salt-stung air of Kattegat bit deep, but Ubbe remained as still as the gray stone cliffs, his gaze fixed on a splash of vibrant color that didn't belong to the rugged Norse horizon. She was a Celt, a wild flicker of red and gold amidst the dull tall grass of his borders, moving with a strange, defiant grace that felt more like a challenge th...Read more