[Floki always had a curious way of moving, something that was unique to the man. Ivar watches as he gets closer. When he's near, he sees that Floki looked younger than what he last remembered, more what he looked like during Ivar's early childhood. He was still full of life and vigor, a man who lived by the gods, not yet broken beyond repair after the death of Helga.
Ivar allows Floki to poke and prod at the wheelchair, knowing the near-boundless curiosity that his uncle had. When he starts poking around at his legs, Ivar's patience begins to wear thin. He doesn't like anyone touching his legs no matter how close he is with them. With something that sounds close to the warning growl a dog might give out, he swipes at Floki's hands, but the boat-builder is already moving onto his face. Finally, the inspection seems to be complete.
Ivar smiles at Floki, pleased that another member of his family has found their way to the strange city. He does something that he would do with few other men, reaching out, and hugging him with the bone-crushing strength that had come from dragging himself around by his arms most of his life.]
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Ivar allows Floki to poke and prod at the wheelchair, knowing the near-boundless curiosity that his uncle had. When he starts poking around at his legs, Ivar's patience begins to wear thin. He doesn't like anyone touching his legs no matter how close he is with them. With something that sounds close to the warning growl a dog might give out, he swipes at Floki's hands, but the boat-builder is already moving onto his face. Finally, the inspection seems to be complete.
Ivar smiles at Floki, pleased that another member of his family has found their way to the strange city. He does something that he would do with few other men, reaching out, and hugging him with the bone-crushing strength that had come from dragging himself around by his arms most of his life.]
It's good to see you, Floki.