Thorfinn started to feel dizzy again, shifting to lay back again as Sylvi pushed her way against his chest, her head laid on his ribs looking to Jo like he was. The pair both listening to her, though he was the one understanding. As scarred as he was he couldn't imagine life with perfect skin. His life was etched into his skin.

"That sounds like it would be terrible. No way to ever change... always stuck as you are. Do you not age either?" He asked softly. It was odd and yet as bad as he felt he wanted to hear more of it. To try and put more pieces into the puzzle that was Jo Harvelle. Everyday it became more clear, she was not Ylfa. She was so much more, someone he had chosen as his own family. Someone who had lived so much and gave so much. She was the kind of person he wanted to become. For himself, his father and even for Askeladd.

She was a warrior by her own rights.