Ivar is always on the lookout for the condescending attitude people seem to have towards him. They look down on him as a pitiful little creature, someone not as worthy as other Vikings. To have this strange woman not point anything out reminds him strongly of Ragnar. His father had never cared about his son's disability, instead, pushing him to work with his disadvantages instead of against them. It had been a refreshing attitude after years of pity.

"Good. It'd be hard to hunt monsters and animals in colors like this. That would alert every creature for a mile around." He wheels alongside her at a speed that's almost the same as walking. His arms have been built up from years of dragging himself around, and compared to pulling his full body weigh along, this is much easier.