"Fjora! It's good to see you!" Bjorn chuckled as he slapped Clay's hero on her back. "Still as solid as ever, I see."
Fjora swept her golden braided ponytail over her shoulder before raising her hand to slap Bjorn's shoulder. However, she burst out laughing when she saw Bjorn flinch at the gesture. Bjorn scowled in return when he realised she was just messing with him.
"You can't be worried about a little tap, right?" Fjora replied once her mirth died down. She looked down at Bjorn, who only came up to her chest area. "So, any idea what this is all about?"
Bjorn gulped as Fjora's muscles rippled when she removed her fur coat and revealed the sleeveless leather vest she wore underneath. Bjorn's gaze went to the large two-handed dwarven-crafted steel club lying against the tree beside her. 'To think she wields that with one hand. Why wouldn't I be worried about her giving me a tap.'
