When that God-awful excuse for a ship finally pulled into land, Kjell would be first off it. He hated travelling in a long boat; truly he did, for it was never a calm sail. The ocean was a cruel, calculating witch, in his mind, and seemed Odin and Thor themselves went out of their way to worsen his experience on the boat, throwing their blades of lightning into the waters, and crashing that monstrous hammer of thunder in the heavens. At least now it was gone. However... this place... it did not seem like Britain at all. Their mission had been but a simple one. Invade a monastery, kill all in their path, and take all the gold and treasures back to their Nordic homelands. What they had not counted on was the storm that had decided to rear its ugly, feared head. Trust me; there is no worse place to be in a storm, than the open waters.
A pair of leather boots landed with a thud and uneasy rumble onto the craggy rocks and pebbles. Many followed afterwards. This appeared to be a craggy coastline, a beach, at any rate. Foggy too, which had been so, ever since they had neared the land mass. The man leading this small group of praised warriors? None other than Kjell himself, who was currently wandering the boulders of the so called 'beach.' He was a fairly tall man, though perhaps not compared to his men, -something he was secretly mocked for-, with short, straw toned hair, and eyes of amazing, blue dullness. It was a rare thing, to have such colours in ones genetics, considering most men were brunettes. Even back then, the Vikings bleached their hair with a strong soap, to obtain blonde. It was well sought after. These fighters were rather smart, too. Except for... that one. That one who had so carelessly /fell/ off the boat, instead of jumping off the longboat. That damn idiot that went by the name of Mathias. When Kjell's ears picked up on the sound of that thick voiced male call out to him. He took off into the deep fog, not wishing to put up with his Danish companion at the moment.
He must have rushed off for either quite some time, or a considerable distance, taking in the fact that Mathias could not actually be heard. All the while, he took in the strangeness of this shrouded land. The snow was fairly deep, and everything was just... white. He could not see well in front of him, and there was nothing to see underneath him, and the skies were either obscured by troublesome clouds or ominous mist. It did not matter either way. "...Such an odd land..." This Nordic male muttered to himself, drawing his blade from its sheath. One could not be too careful in an unknown land. After all, Kjell had received an awful shock when he saw an elk wander past him, grunting at his presence, as though he were some, strange being. By no means was this an animal he had never had contact with but... Kjell only knew it to exist back in his own home. Did this mean... no. They could not have possibly sailed from Norway, and then ended up /back/ in Norway! That was... highly foolish! He would be laughed at forever!
He continued mentally abusing himself with these terrible images of his failure until his legs carried him to what was, apparently, a forest. A dark one, with evergreen tree's stretching far into the heavens, to the point that Kjell thought the Gods may sit on the branches comfortably. Consequently, they appeared to have completely sheltered the woodland forests from snow, but not the ice. The frosting of nature sat on the brown, fallen needles of the tree's, interrupted only by a log, or a piece of rotten bark, or a frozen over puddle, amidst the hazy floors on the natural world. "...What a drastic change..." The blonde silently marvelled, sorting the furs and pelts that covered his body to keep him warm. All of them were too big though... having once belonged to the Dane back at the long ship. Kjell was considering returning back to those idiots, feeling that, with Mathias in control, everyone would be drunk in no time. What stopped him? A simple bird. Not that he had seen many of this kind before, perhaps only one or two in his life time, with its white underbelly, black back feathers and head cap, the sides of its head also a pure white, and an almost angry expression graced its features, but this was not it's stand out feature, no, it was that comical beak. It started off in a greyish agate colour, then with a cream streak separating it from the bright, unmistakable vermillion that was on display at the front of the beak. What were they called now... puffins? Yes, he was fairly certain these birds were called puffins.
The bird bleated at him in bravery, puffin out its chest and spreading its fairly small wing span in an act of defiance. Perhaps it had eggs nearby? What did it matter, Kjell was planning to make it his lunch. So that is why he held his sword rather high, surprised the air-borne creature would not flinch, as if it had accepted its fate. "A noble bird, you shall make a fine meal." Though that was hardly a praise... interrupted by a squealing whimper in the nearby bushes, causing Kjell to be the one who actually flinched. "...Who goes there?" He announced in a hiss, swinging his sword to the direction of the shrub. No one would make a fool of him... or his to-be lunch. What a shock he must have got, to see a pair of lilac eyes staring out at him in the shadows and darkness, like luminous orbs. A child... surely not!
Kjell, being more sympathetic to an innocent child than a gutsy bird, kneeled down in a painfully slow manner, setting his weapon aside to pose no threat. "...Come here, I will not harm you, little one..." He offered in his sedating tone of voice, even going so far as to smile, for he knew his sharp features could give an intimidating impression... especially to children, or so it seemed that way. "Don't be so shy... here." Untying the knot that kept his night blue cape around his shoulders, the elder held it out in his pale arms, like a little blanket for a toddler to cuddle up in. The promise of heat was what truly lured the boy out of his futile hiding place, and what a shock he was! That hair colour...soft and ivory white... it was not natural, surely? And those eyes... like semi-precious gems, and skin that was pale beyond words. He was a beautiful little boy, and it seemed he was out here alone... alone, peculiar in appearance, and wearing nothing but a small tunic of what he was assuming to be an assembly of Elk horn shedding's. Clever child. Automatically, that vibrant billed bird flew to the young ones side, eyeing Kjell up suspiciously. He did not trust this other being, which was disrupting his owner and his own game of hide and go seek. The intruder though, was far too absorbed by the little boy in front of him, his action of wrapping the child in his cape like that of a mindless man who did nothing but obey orders. "...Can you talk?" Kjell inquired, studying the boy with complete adoration for his innocent appearance. His reply was nothing but a shy snuggling motion to his chest, neither a yes or no. "...I'll take you back to camp then, little one..." So, with young, cape adorned child in his arms, and reluctant puffin on his shoulder, of whom was planning to stick by his owner no matter what, Kjell trudged through the snowy tundra, hoping he could find his way back fairly soon, considering that the skies were darkening, and the sun waited for no man.