So tired… Thank you for the all wonderful critic :D it really helped me! PLEASE REVIEW OR ELSE DOLPIHINS WILL EAT ME! :3

Tino awoke to a million golden eyes with white eyelashes glaring at him. He sat up lazily to survey his soundings, repressing a yawn as his eyelashes flittered open and closed. The eyes around him began to slowly change across his vision and with giggling delight; he found them to morph into the tall stalks of Ox-eyed daisies. Tino's fingers flitted over the ragged leaves of the flowers, his smile bright and shining as the sun overhead. He seemed to find himself in a meadow of sorts, but where exactly he did not know.

Tino bent his head to the flowers and felt his bones ache and his head feel heavy. With a strangled moan for slumber he stretched his legs. He wanted sleep, oh how he wanted sleep. He laid his head down among the soft cushioning flowers, smelling the promise of spring rain.

He laid there for what must have been hours and yet sleep did not see fit to hold him in its grasp, frustrated, the Finn sat up. He scanned his eyes across the sky and noted that the sun had long since gone down and he was left alone in the dark, only a few solitary torches leaving ghostly light across his face. Feeling a bit frightened he began to twist his body around, looking for something to occupy his time so he would not be so anxious of the dark that engulfed him so.

Within moments his eyes found a glowing clump of daisies and a smile returned to his face. He took it as a sign from the Gods, moving his feet to his chest and plucked a healthy looking flower from the caked dirt.* The stalk bounded in the Finns hand as he held it close to his lips. This flower smelled familiar, looked familiar, reminded him of something or someone, yet he couldn't remember who…

Tino inspected the flower closely, mimicking the bob of its head with his own, giggling slightly and marveling at how smooth the petals of the flower felt. If only he could remember why the flower was so familiar… the way it seemed to glare at him, yet also holding a loving stare, a devoted stare that surely only a flower could behold. Tino wished he could remember!

Feeling frustrated and angry with himself for not being able to remember, he—without a second thought—began to pluck the first petal off of the flower. Twisting the snow white petal between his thumb and finger he hummed to himself. Then, as if by accident, a slow thought crept across his eyes.

A face, blurry and shining began to form in Tino's mind. It was a man, a very handsome man, with flaxen hair, strong jaw, and the most beautiful sea stone eyes he had ever seen. Tino shut his eyes tight. Oh how he wished he remembered! The person's name was on the tip of his tongue…tip…of his…tongue…

Tino felt his cheeks grow red… his lips parted for a whisper of much needed air, fingers still twirling the petal.

"Ber…Berwald." The name thundered like a hurricane, like a crest of lightning and a wonderment of rain. The heated name became a shattering darkness that blew out the torches and made Tino shiver. That name, became the image in his mind.

With a shaky breath, Tino opened his eyes with awe to see that the mass of daisies in front of him had parted to give way to a berth of flames. His cheeks flared pink as he saw a figure standing tall and proud in front of the soaring and licking bonfire. That wide back, those powerful muscles like those of a lion, strong arms, slender fingers that could reach unimaginable places, and that terrifyingly handsome face… "O-oh… Berwald…" the words slid from his mouth like the sweetest of honey. He remembered. Oh how he remembered.

Tino felt his feet pick him up as he swayed to Berwald; his small frame shivering as he slid through the flowers, dressed only in what he shockingly discovered was a small string skirt out of sheep hide.* Blushing slowly he noticed that Berwald wasn't wearing much more than the little Finn, except for a few patterns of paint on his well toned chest and a low drawn swath of blue cloth around his middle. But Tino certainly wasn't complaining. He wouldn't mind romping in the hay with the man all night long!

The little Finn desperately wanted the taller man with all his heart, and what better time now then at the bonfires? Smiling greedily to himself he slowly trotted over to the giant of a man, his heart soaring with delight as figure turned his body towards him.

Almost immediately the Finn's heart rose with the speed of a flower blown into the wind. Berwald's face was so handsomely graced with strong features, and without his crudely made glasses showing against his eyes, he looked less annoyed and hostile. He was perfect in heart and body…Oh yes, defiantly in body

Without warning the Swede began to walk toward the young Finn, glare intent in his eyes, his muscles swaying haughtily underneath his undoubtedly hot flesh. Tino felt like he had died and gone to Valhalla.* In a flash all his worries, all his doubt and hesitation were washed away as his blood began to burn through his veins, clouding his vision and making his heart pound violently in his chest. He wanted this, craved it, neededit, and he was about to have it!

After Berwald was but inches away from the Finn he seemed to just stare at him with attentive eyes, his gaze looking more solid, fixed, and lusty. It seemed to Tino he wasn't the only one that had naughty things in his mind.

Then at last the silence was broken as Berwald's finger padded over Tino's shoulders with soft hesitation, curiosity even, as if he was touching the fine fur of a seal skin. Tino could feel the tender and loving sensations that each glide of the finger brought, and it was enough to make him gasp for breath in the smoky presence of the bonfire.

"Ber…Berwald…"

Tino's breath hitched in his throat as those long and tentative fingers glided over his bare collar bone, with shyness still guiding their actions. But Tino didn't want shyness. He wanted bold, daring, and lusty movements. So, with a look set of determination, Tino brought his small fingers to rest on Berwald's strong and solid chest. He bit his lip, eyes carefully watching for any changes in Berwald's movements, not wanting to scare the poor giant. But, when Berwald's body did not flinch from the touch, Tino felt his eyes set with courage.

With a slighter change of boldness his fingers began to trail a long and vigorous line up and down Berwald's chest, feeling every bump and upturn of the Swede's six-pack and beyond. It was only when pale fingers began to grow bashful and clumsy as they reached the tip of the rough swath of cloth wrapped ever-so-loosely around the tall man's hip bones. Tino swallowed hard. All it took was a little flick of his wrist and the swath would flitter to the floor, leaving Tino with a prize worthy of a thousand of Freyja's red-golden tears!*

He looked up at Berwald, as if asking permission. The Swede's heated glare washed over him, making him shiver with delight. Berwald took Tino's hands in his own and guided them downward, towards the jutting cloth, to which Tino inspected, had formed a bulge. Looking down at his own string skirt he felt his manhood straining against the loose cloth and hide, he was already becoming wet and impatient.

He had never felt like this before at it was all Berwald's fault! Berwald, the man in front of him who smelled like freshly shaven pine boughs, whose body could make the Gods cry out with envy, and whose sharp eyes could make Tino whimper with lust by just a mere glance. It was Berwald who made Tino weak to his knees, made his manhood cry out for something the Finn dared not name. It was Berwald who Tino loved.

Taking a big breath of the fire scorched air that faintly smelled of daisies, Tino slinked his hands over the blue cloth. He leaned into Berwald's ear, smiling softly when he felt the Swede shiver beneath him, his giant hands resting on Tino's waist.

Tino's lean fingers gripped the wiry cloth. I want this, I want this! He repeated in his mind over and over again with a lusty smile. Oh yes… He wanted this.

Fingers poised over the cloth, lips still against Berwald's ear, he slowly whispered the words he had been dying to say.

"I love you my summer husband…"

The cloth fell to the floor.

….

"Tino…Tino? Wake up!" An annoyed voice shook through Tino's head and made him groan with irritation. He sat up wearily as he felt the tugging on his tunic grow more persistent with every second. When his eyes finally opened to reveal anger filled violet eyes, his face scrunched up into a scowl.

"What Nikolas?" he breathed, a yawn making its way to the back of his throat. He was having a perfectly good dream before Nikolas had to go and ruin it! The Finn threw his woolen blanket off of his chest and sat up against a pile of hay, tiredly rubbing the heel of his palm into his brow, trying desperately to dispel the dark circles under his eyes.

It was only when Nikolas started to laugh and slide down the ladder did Tino turn to him.

"Still wetting the bed, eh Tino?" Nikolas laughed once more before climbing down the ladder. Tino, stunned and confused as to what his cousin just said, looked down at his body.

Oh….

Tino's faces heated like a kettle on the hearth. He had…wet his pants… Feeling childish embarrassment his him he immediately threw the blanket off him and sat on his knees, looking down at his stained tunic. But something was strange; he hadn't wet his bed since he was six years old… So what was?

Ah….

Tino smacked his hands to his face and braced himself as his cheeks heated into an even brighter blush. Peeling off the soiled tunic he sighed with defeat. It was just as he expected. Long twirls of sluggish white liquid stained against his thighs and manhood… He had had a wet dream.

Tino cried out into the empty loft with frustration. It was all Berwald's fault! Damn the Swede for making him have such an effect on the young Finn! Tino swore the man was driving him insane. But wait! Tino's face immediately lit up with sheer happiness. He had dreamed of Berwald. Tino clutched his hands to his chest, his lips upturned into a dazzling smile. Berwald was to be his summer husband. Tino flopped on his back and began to roll on the hay with fits of giggles, that is, until he remembered his currant problem.

Grumbling and crawling down to the top of the ladder, he scooped up a bit of the hay that sadly had been soiled and wrapped it up in the now dirtied blanket. Well, at least tonight he would be able to have a chance at a bit of fun, his stomach churning with giddiness, his heart pounding. He only hoped Berwald would pick him.

After disposing of the hay and placing the blanket in the washing pale, he began to hunt for some clean clothes, his cheeks growing hot as he remembered his attire in his dream.

"Well… I did dream of him." Tino said to himself, an exuberant smile gracing over his pale face. Maybe the Gods would be kind to him! Maybe Berwald would accept him at the maidens dance! Maybe they would live happily ever after! Sure… and little white doggies would fly out of his ass…

After placing the dirty tunic in the wash pale and shuffling on a crisp white summer tunic, Tino joined Nikolas in the small dirt floored living room. His aunt was busying herself with pouring a healthy helping of barely stew into each of their bowls, warning Björt not to eat it too fast or he'd get a stomach ache.

Tino shuffled to a stool and sat down, biting down into a piece of rye bread, his stomach already starting to feel like a thousand butterflies had hatched inside. This day would go by dreadfully slowly. First he would help Nikolas with the chores, and then he would have to help the men set up the wood for the bonfire, and then get ready for the maidens dance. He sighed, his mouth still chewing the roughly crusted bread.

"So, who did you two boys dream of?" Tino's aunt asked excitedly, her eyes the exact same icy blue as Nikolas's except they held more warmth. Tino's face immediately went red.

"Ah…" he began but was cut off by Nikolas's monotone mumble.

"Tino dreamed of Berwald." It was said curtly, before the Norwegian boy delicately took another spoon full of the barley mash.

"I-I did not!" Tino defended himself, his palms flat on the little round table.

Nikolas smirked over a mouthful of stew before swallowing. "Yes you did. I heard you. All night long you were chanting his name. It must have been some dream…"

Tino, feeling that he was trapped, just scoffed. "Oh-Oh yeah? Well I bet you dreamed of Mathias!" Tino said, his voice still holding a dab of embarrassment from the Norsemen's last comment.

Nikolas's face remained neutral. "So? What if I did." He said slowly.

It was Nikolas's mother turn to cut in now. "Well, Nikolas, that means he will be your husband." The shockingly blonde women said, taking out a few small cutting knives from her dress pocket. She turned her back and began to cut open a few round squashes left in a wicker basket.

Nikolas shrugged. "Let's hope not." He said, finishing the last of his bowl of food before placing it in a water pale and taking a hold of Tino's tunic sleeve.

"Come on. We have to let out the goats." He said pointedly. Tino grumbled but followed him out the small wooden door, hearing with seething annoyance as Björt began to sing a song of all the children Tino was going to have with 'the scary Troll-giant.' Tino sighed. One of these days he really had to take his little Icelandic cousin to the middle of the forest and let a Valravn eat the damned brat.*

...

Berwald had woken up to the sounds of heavy foot prints outside his door and the clanking of a cobblers morning work. He groaned and nudged his blanket closer against his face to keep the blinding light out of his eyes. He had had a restless sleep, his mind racing of images of his little Finnish bride.

Under the cover of nightfall Berwald let his imagination run wild, his mind conjuring up little perverted scenarios in which Berwald would either happen upon the little Finn bathing in a stream naked, or a little dream in which Berwald would open up his long house door to see Tino lying on his bear skin rug, his nicely curved ass high in the air, naked. Or one of Berwald's favorite scenarios in which Berwald finds Tino in the forest picking berries, naked. Actually, any scenario would do, as long as the little Finn was, well…Naked.

Berwald sighed into the warming air of his big cradle like bed. It had taken him forever to find enough timber to build the damn thing, and enough hay and sheep skins to fill it, but after a few weeks he had gotten the bed built. He blushed slightly as he picked a few loose straws of grass free from the bedding. The bed was just big enough to fit two, a large tall Swede, and a short petite Finn. Berwald smiled. Ah… Tonight he would not be sleeping alone. Oh no, tonight he would be with his bride.

"Perkele!"* Tino shouted into the air as he was once again shoved to the rickety fence of the goat pasture. One of the goats, a stubby Billy goat named Tanngniostr and his twin brother, Tanngrisnthad tag teamed and tripped Tino to the mossy floor before chasing him around the paddock with demented looks in their rectangular pupils.* Or at least that's how it seemed to Tino. To Nikolas who was watching the platinum blonde with amusement it just looked like Tino was getting his ass kicked by two dumb animals.

It was only when the trickier of the goats bleated and pawed at the ground did Tino's eyes widened. With a shout and a mocking yelp he grinned at the goat and bent his head, mimicking its movements, his hands poised like curved goat horns.

He laughed and 'baw-ed' as best as he could, snorting like a wild creature.

"You're just pissing it off more." Nikolas warned from his safe seating on a higher rail connected to the barn. But Tino didn't listen. There was no way in this world or the next that he would be bested by a goat. So, with a last warriors cry he lunged at the horned animal with all his might. The animal bucked upward before charging itself, its eyes irritable.

Within three seconds the animal had managed to knock Tino off his ass and into a pile of a brown questionable substance.

Tino sighed with disgust before standing hunched over. The damned beast had managed to scrape his hip, as a small rough slit of blood began to dribble from the skin. He cursed in the warm summer air before turning back to the animal. The second male goat had joined his brother, both pawing at the ground, baw-ing their heads off.

"Oh shit…" Tino breathed. Norway just laughed and clapped his hands together.

"Better run! Once they've tasted Finnish blood there's no going back!" He hollered at his cousin, rolling from laughter off the railings and into a pile of dried grass. Tino turned his face to glare at his cousin before facing the maddening goats again.

Scurrying backward he fluttered his hands around for the gate latch as the goats began to walk towards him. Maybe pissing off animals with sharp horns was not the smartest thing he could have done. Nope, defiantly not.

"Guess I have no choice." Tino would have to jump the fence before the goats could chew him to pieces. Steadying his hands atop one of the moss covered railings, he bit his lip. The goats were no more than six feet away from him now, the sheep chewing lazily behind them, watching the show.

"Hey Tino!" a voice made Tino turn around, his face still showing a bit of fear. When he saw the owner—or owners of the voice, his face immediately turned red. The hunting party from last night had come to watch the little Finnish boy battle the twin goats… Oh the Gods really hated him didn't they?

It must have been Antonio who had called Tino first, because he was farther ahead of the others, a small red swath of wool dangling from his arms. When the Spaniard reached the fence he rested his elbows on the railing.

"Hey Tino, heard you were battling a monster, si?" his said, his voice showing slight amusement.

"Kesesese Ja! Like a big horned monster or something awesome like that!" Gilbert cackled, swinging his legs over the railing.

"Shouldn't you guys be helping collect firewood?" Tino asked bitterly, his eyes still staring down the goats. He had to somehow swing his legs over the rough wood before the goats charged and shoved a horn or two up his ass. He cringed. Damn Goats.

"Here, use this!" Antonio handed the red swath to Tino with a smile on his face. Tino's face gawked with confusion till The Spaniard moved his fingers back and forth, imitating the flutter of a blanket. "To tease it." He explained, pointing to the goats that were now beginning to glare.

Tino nodded with determination, flapping the blanket like a mad man, trying to get the goats attention.

Tanngniostr began to square his haunches, ready to charge while his brother was spooked by the flutter of the blanket. Tino smiled grimly. It was the last stand.

With a fleeting cry in his throat, and the blanket crushed in between his fingers he flew with speed.

"I am a warrior!" he yelled with courageous power.

"He's and idiot." Nikolas whispered, his eyes becoming a dulled blue.

After finding something to eat in his small grain storage, and stopping to imagine his little Finnish wife naked in said grain storage, Berwald had shut and latched his long house door and stepped into the blistering warmth that was early afternoon. He hadn't meant to sleep in this late, but somehow the nights events had taken their toll and his body, and well, he wanted to be well rested and fit for tonight. He wanted to be in perfect health for pleasing his wife.

Berwald, hiding his blush as new thoughts popped into his head, spotted a familiar face coming round a bought of aspen trees. The person's auburn hair bouncing in the light breeze. Berwald placed a hand on the person's shoulder, trying his best to get rid of his glare.

In a few seconds Feliciano's smiling face screeched into a frightened face, before calming down. "Ah… Berwald, ve~ you scared me!" he said, laughing nervously. Berwald furroed his brows.

"G'monin'." He said.

"Ah, Good morning!" The little Italian repeated, his voice gaining back its chipper appeal.

"Wh're ev'ryb'dy?" Berwald asked, scanning his eyes over the main sector of the village. A majority of the houses had their doors wide open, with women cooking goodies on the hearth or boiling mead, and men outside herding animals or getting scraps of wood ready. A few children were romping around, playing with stray dogs, but Berwald couldn't find his usual group; or his cute wife.

"Ve? Oh! There out at Tino and Nikolas's farm. Apparently Tino is trying to wrestle their two goats!" Feliciano happy to give out information that didn't have to do with pasta, nodded vigorously.

"Th'nks…" Berwald mumbled before making his way to the farm. All along the short minute trek Berwald couldn't help but worry.

Tino shouldn't be out wrestling barn animals… He should be tucked in bed where it's safe… Berwald thought in his head, his eyes showing signs of worriment. Once he reached the small farm he was astonished to find the entire hunting party lounging near the fencing, grinning and laughing like there was no tomorrow. As Berwald wandered closer his eyes widened.

There in the middle of a stack of Hay stood his little Finn, wiping the dirt from his brow, holding a tattered red cloth, in front of him was one of the most irritable goats Berwald had ever seen. He remembered how Mathias had once dared him to sneak into the pasture at night and cut a bit of hair from one of the goat's beard. It had ended badly, with Berwald tripping on a fallen log, waking up the damned goat and being chased around the pasture till dawn. He had made Mathias promise not to tell anyone or he would tell the whole village that Mathias played with dolls—which he did.

Now it was time for a bit of revenge. Walking up to the fence, heads turned and eyes immediately widened as they saw his presence, each man backing up to let him through. Pushing off one of the fence rails with ease, he swung over onto the other side of the corral and cracked his neck side to side, palms faced out.

Tino turned behind him to see the tall and darkly features of the man he had been dreaming about all night. His face immediately turned beat red and his throat let out a strangled yelp. Per-fucking-kele.*

Looking down quickly he saw his perfect white tunic had become smudged with dirt and green smears of grass, his hair covered in weeds and alfalfa seeds. He laughed weakly, unsure of what to say.

Berwald looked to him for a mere second, just to make sure he was all in one piece before turning to the beasty animal that dared to harass his poor wife. A shuddered hush passed over the spectators as they watched the giant Sweden walk towards the little Finn. Berwald's towering height did wonders to make Tino look like a tiny ant, and the Finn tried hard not to flinch as the strongly built man patted his head with an affectionate touch.

Then, without warning, the giant of a man hooked his thumbs through his tunic and shuffled it off. Tino, eyes wide, could only stare at the well toned chest in front of him, reminding himself that he was in front of other people and that he had to resist temptation to run his hands over that body.

Berwald, ignoring the confused and even fixed glares he was earning, dabbed and rubbed the edges of the navy blue tunic's sleeves onto the smudges along Tino's face and arms, trying his best to clean him up. Once he was satisfied, his eyes still cornering the bleating goat, he scooted Tino over and under the railing to safety, collecting the swath cloth of red.

"Now we're going to get a real fight!" Mathias voice cackled over the quietness of the farm. Some village men and women had come to watch the event that had suddenly turned into a game.

Berwald slowly circled the goat, licking his lips and twitching his palms upward. He would show he was strong and take revenge on this damned animal for hurting his wife! With a swift cry that scared a few people from their seats on the railings, Berwald lunged at the animal. The goat, seeing that the Swede was actually going to put up a fight, jerked upward and slammed its head into Berwald chest, almost knocking him down. But Berwald was faster than the animal, and with an upturn of his wrist he threw the red cloth over the animal's head and twisted it downward, holding the animal in place, its hind legs kicking. He had won.

Everyone around him shouted and hollered with cries of joy and enthusiasm. They were pleased with the display of strength and their grins on their face showed it. But, then something happened that made the people quiet. After letting the goat go Berwald hopped the fence, but before he could rejoin his wife, who to his happiness was smiling, he felt a harsh tap his against his shoulder. Looking behind him he saw Mathias, a grin scattering over his face.

"So you beat the shit out of a goat, big deal. Doesn't mean the Finn's gonna' open his legs for you. You got a long way to go Swede." Mathias said harshly to Berwald, a cruel grin on his face. He laughed abruptly before turning around to join Nikolas who was latching up the coral gate and locking it up.

Berwald's face, bright as the reddest apple, began to scrunch up with doubt. Maybe Berwald did have to improve a bit more to really get the Finn's attention. He had already gotten a few kisses and such, but, he wanted to impress Tino, make him proud to be his wife… Berwald turned to the little Finn in question who was busying picking wood shavings from his tunic, his hand holding Berwald's discarded shirt.

Walking up to the Finn he lightly held his hands out for his clothing, watching with curiosity as Tino's face looked up at his, a blush plastered on his cute little face. Berwald tried his best to smile; he really did love the petite little man.

"Oh… Berwald… You look hurt…" Tino said, his voice worried. Tino held Berwald's bare arm with his pale hands, looking down the Swede's shoulder. A big purple bruise had formed on Berwald's bone-colored skin. Berwald shrugged and looked away. Best for his wife not to worry about him.

Tino bit his lip and set his eyes in a stubborn gaze. "Berwald, come with me, we've got to get you cleaned up!" Tino said, dragging a stumbling and confused Berwald to the small pathway that led to the Finn's longhouse.

"W'ere we goin'?" Berwald asked, actually enjoying being pulled by the little Finn, his hand in his. Tino didn't bother to turn around, but kept his feet in a fast past up to the small door to the longhouse.

"To my house of course! I'll have to treat your wounds!" Tino said matter of fact.

Berwald swallowed hard. He was going to go into Tino's hall, see Tino's room, and be taken care of by the Finnish boy? Oh this was Berwald's lucky day.

"Oh! And if some of your wounds are below your waist then you might have to strip of your clothes…" Tino added after a second though, his face heating up.

Berwald's eyes widened. Strip? Him? Berwald blushed.

"Only if y'll str'p too…" Berwald mumbled beneath his breath.

"Hmm? What did you say Berwald?" Tino asked, unlocking the latch from the door.

"Nuthin' Berwald quickly tried to hide his blush. It was going to be along day…

.

I'm sorry, its seems like the only thing I wrote in this chapter is about how fucking insane goats are XD

Shit…A lot of Authors Notes:

-"He took it as a sign from the Gods, moving his feet to his chest and plucked a healthy looking flower from the caked dirt."*-In Herb magic Daisies are the flower used for love and lust, ruled by Venus. Tino takes this as a sign that his love with be shown to him 3

-"his small frame shivering as he slid through the flowers, dressed only in what he shockingly discovered was a small string skirt out of sheep hide."*-Again my perverted mind at work. A sting skirt is just as it sounds, a skirt made out of strings, corded sinew strings to be exact. Women wore them in the summer when it got too hot. Though they were more apparent in the Bronze Age let's just say that they fit into this time period. ^^"

- "Tino felt like he had died and gone to Valhalla."* Valhalla, in Norse mythology, is when slain warriors who fought gallantly, go to wait for Ragnarok (The end of the world in Norse Mythology).

- "All it took was a little flick of his wrist and the swath would flitter to the floor, leaving Tino with a prize worthy of a thousand of Freyja's red-golden tears!"*-Freyja was the Norse Goddess of fertility, and she was so distraught at not being able to see her husband as often as she could, that she would cry tears of red gold. Much as to how Chuck Norris's tears cure cancer.

- "Tino sighed. One of these days he really had to take his little Icelandic cousin to the middle of the forest and let a Valravn eat the damned brat.*"—A Valravn is more popular in Danish lore but eh, whatever. It was a raven that had eaten dead warriors flesh on the battle field thereby inheriting human intelligence and supernatural powers. The often went after children in the middle of the night and ate them to gain human/and or/wolf forms.

-"Perkele!"*-Finnish profanity

- "One of the goats, a stubby Billy goat named Tanngniostr and his twin brother, Tanngrisnthad tag teamed…*"-The story of Tanngniostr and his brother Tangrisnt were that they were both goats who pulled Thor's chariot. When Thor would stop for the night at a person's home, he would slaughter the goats to feed the family, they put the bones in the goat's skin and they would be reborn again for the next journey.

Per-fucking-kele.*- me pretending to be clever