She puts her hand to her heart and shakes her head.

"Poor little girl," she sighs. "She was so dear to him. And Floki was very fond of her."

At the mention of Rollo's name, though, she lowers her eyes and looks at Floki. Broken, clinging to life. It's against her nature to harbor any ill-will toward anyone, but Rollo... She hates what he's done to him. But hating him won't heal anything.

She purses her lips and lightly runs her fingertips through Floki's fluff of hair.

"The gods may have decided Rollo's fate, but I'm sure it's difficult for Ragnar to deal with. They are both good men."