Ravensblood Forest from wars that you waged

At this point, the Viking was content to let the silence hang between them — give the loner a chance to decide whether he wanted to team up with Kjalarr or decide against it. The Northman had given his warning fair and true: so that if it would come down to it, there was an understanding of where any potential hostility came from. And if there was one thing that Kjalarr was good at it was hostility. The loner offered his name and what had been apparent enough to Kjalarr's sense of smell: he ran alone. “Kjalarr, Beta of Saltwinter.” Came his own gruff return of introductions. It had been ...some time since he'd conversed out of his very small and very select social circle — and was fairly certain that the last stranger he'd conversed with he told her she could leave her baby to die since she, pregnant at the time, hadn't seemed all that interested in wanting the life that had grown within her. Idly, Kjalarr wondered if she'd given birth yet and if she'd let the consequence of her “fooling” around to die or not, but disregarded it as quickly as it came. He didn't really care about her or what she'd done with her baby, in the end.

Kelso spoke that all he wanted was a bite or two and that Kjalarr could have what was left of whatever they managed to scrounge up together. For a moment, the Northman contemplated the bargain, not inherently all that trustful. “Fine,” The Viking conceded. “but if we manage to catch anything at all and you take more than your bite or two,” Kjalarr emphasized the quote. “I'll be taking you back to Saltwinter as food.” Kjalarr would fight for it — if he had to. He couldn't necessarily claim that he was willing to turn cannibal but Kelso didn't know that.