As much as Eivor should have been out helping train the younger members of the village, he could not manage it. Not today. His mind was a mess of wants. His desire to sail away from this place full of haunting memories had weighed him down since the moment his eyes opened this morning. Training had been a passion for him once but that flame seemed to have gone out long ago. Now he wished only to do. Not to teach but to learn. Yes, Eivor needed able bodied men and woman to raid with but today was not a day for them to learn. Not from him at least. Today, his words would be waisted and unimpassioned. Nothing from him would make them any better. His mind lay less where. Which is way he’d come to the Long House so early in the afternoon. 

Normally, he would have at least waited till evening to start drinking.  When the sun started to dip and its reflection pooled against the sea waters, that’s when he headed to the Long House. Today was not a day that he could wait that long. He was writing this one off. A day to feel something other than anger or sadness and the only thing that would cause those feelings to subside was mead. Mead and lots of it. Thor himself would have been challenged to out drink Eivor. He was sure of that. This was what would impress the gods, no doubt, that is what Eivor told himself anyways. 

Sitting down on the long, wooden, bench, Eivor let out a sigh and ran his hands over his hair. It was getting out of order in its length. He would have to have someone cut it for him before the summer raids. The last thing he needed was for some Saxon to grab his hair mid battle and make a fool out of him. Raising one hand, Eivor did not bother to look for a thrall as there was always one near in the Long House. “Mead. As much as I can have.” He grunted out the order before letting his hand drop back down to the table with a light thump.