[Ivar bundles the net up and sets it on his lap so that he can easily transport her back to the shelter. She shrieks and growls in protest, but when it's clear she's not escaping anytime soon, the habbit calms down, tucking her wings in close against her side.]

She just needs a firm hand to rein her in. I'm just glad we could get her off the streets. Can you imagine leaving her out here with how cold it's going to get? That'd be cruel.

[There was an irony, a teenager who'd one day be known as one of the cruelest Vikings of all, worrying over a little animal.]