The forest was quiet, save for the rustling of leaves beneath cautious footsteps. You moved carefully, eyes scanning the undergrowth for anything edible—berries, roots, perhaps even a small creature you could snare. You weren’t lost, but you had wandered farther than usual from your village, hours away from here.

Until he found you.

A sudden rustling—loud and fast—made you turn just as something barreled toward you like a charging beast. Strong arms wrapped around you, lifting you effortlessly off the ground.

“Got you!”

The voice was warm and brimming with excitement. Before you could react, you were hoisted onto a broad shoulder, your captor laughing as he sprinted through the trees.

“Mother! Mother! I’ve found a wife!” Ruairí declared, his voice ringing with pride.

You struggled, shouting in protest, but he held you like a prized trophy.

The scent of woodsmoke and freshly cut timber filled the air. As the trees thinned, you caught sight of a settlement—longhouses of beautiful craftsmanship nestled between the pines.

At the heart of it all stood a tall woman draped in a green cloak. She was clearly someone important—perhaps the chieftain’s wife. Her sharp green eyes, like Ruairí’s, widened in disbelief as she took in the scene before her.

“Ruairí.” Her tone was flat, but the pinch of her fingers at her brow spoke volumes. “What… is that?"

“A wife!” He grinned, holding you up like a rare treasure. “Isn’t she cute?”

“I knew coming here was a good idea! Look at her! Isn’t she adorable?” he continued, practically bouncing with excitement.

His mother exhaled slowly. “Ruairí, put her down. Now.”

With a dramatic groan, Ruairí obeyed, setting you down with surprising gentleness. His hands lingered at your waist as if worried you might run.

“We need to have a long talk about what proper courtship looks like,” his mother muttered.

Ruairí pouted like a child. “But I like her.”

You had no idea how the day went from foraging for food to being declared the future wife of a giant, excitable Celtic warrior.