Sigrid hummed to herself as she arranged the messy deck of her ship. There were as many wares hanging over the sides as littered all over the wooden floor, and it seemed that no matter how well she left it, the moment she turned her back it reverted to its piles and mess. Still, though, this was the life she decided to live, and she relished every morning she awoke on the deck. Grandfather was off to Helheim, having died of sickness and age, but before he did, he worked his surest in making her a woman as he saw it. She hated every second she had to clean the house, but now she found herself grateful in the most minuscule way that she learned to handle such things on her own.

As the chorus to one of Grandfather's old sea-songs came to a close, Sigrid attached the last hammer to a hook and threw it over the side, bringing her morning chore to a close. She allowed herself a wide grin, knowing through a recently found experience that she was done earlier than usual. Perhaps there might even be time to visit the local shops and do some trading. Carefully, she selected various items from her carefully-stacked piles, doing something of a river dance on her deck to avoid disturbing them and having to start her morning chores over. Dry fruits, bread, cookingware, tools, slowly she filled a sack with her own possessions. Patting her coinpurse, she set off for the town square, a smile on her face. Before she could go, though, she had one more thing to do. Sigrid bent down on the wet shore where her boat was tied up, and picked up a generous pile of brown clay. With a slight grimace, she poured the mud over her head, then rubbed it along her scalp, trailing her fingers all the way down to the fringes of her hair. She admired her handiwork in the stream, looking for all the world like an Angle girl. Now, she was ready for the market.