#frithjofr

Beck furrowed her brows, slightly confused. "Erm... s'pose that depends on the package itself? And what your brother-in-law looks like. Can't really give you an answer if I don't have all the facts, ya know."

‘He’s a Nord, called Frithjofr. Um... he’s got grey hair, and there might have been a chicken following him. He lives near Solitude.’

Thus ended the extent of Haaki’s descriptive abilities. He shrugged apologetically and added,

Happy birthday! At least I hope it’s your birthday. I told the courier to do the delivering thing on the right day and he looked trustworthy, he had a nice hat, you can always trust a good hat, that’s what Ma used to say. I think it was Ma who said that.

Anyway, I’ll soon, I miss you, it’s been too long. I hope you like this present, I got Burd to choose it by letting her come with me into Solitude and going to whichever shopkeepers she didn’t attack.

Love,

Frithjofr

The letter is accompanied by a red and black silk scarf, which is wrapped around a book of Nordic poetry.

The courier caught her just as she was leaving the house and her brows furrowed slightly in confusion. Thanking the man with the nice hat, Tort took the letter and package from him and turned back to the house, curiosity peaked.

As soon as her eyes fell upon the familiar handwriting, her heart leapt to her throat. A grin spread across her face and she felt warm tears spring to her eyes. Just knowing he was fine was gift enough. Truth be told, she had forgotten it was her birthday to begin with. 

Opening the package, she pulled the scarf from around the book, wrapping the soft fabric about her neck and she flipped through the poetry. She would have to write him back. Or better, visit him when she could.

[Prompt]

True, the little creature did latch onto the Nord’s hand with its teeth at the motion Frithjofr made. Though Tort was concerned, she had to fight to hide a smile as she assisted him in escaping.

[Prompt]

A turned over vegetable cart. Cabbages rolling across the market, tomatoes splattered on the ground, carrots piled up near the well. A lone chicken squawked at the various merchants. Arlain’s eyes narrowed at the Nord.

'Well, I dunno. That's why I asked you.' There's a long pause spent squeezing Tortulja in return, but eventually Frithjofr breaks away from the hug and scratches his chin. 'Obviously this needs more research. You want to help?'

"Pappa?" Tort gasped, elated to see the older Nord. Without hesitation, she threw her arms around Frithjofr in a firm hug, squeezing him tightly. "How have you been?! I've missed you! Is everything okay?!"

After a moment in which she allowed herself to breathe, she thought over what he said and then let out a laugh.

[Prompt]

Tortulja spun towards the voice, her eyes wide. A broad grin formed on her face and she ran to the Nord, wrapping him in a firm hug.