Neverwinter Forest The beams of first light [Birth (M)]

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In grief Kjalarr was numb to many things but surprise, as it turned out, was not one of them. He felt it when he caught the movement of Maude emerging out of the shadows out of the corner of his eye. His first instinct was to chase her away with a curl of his lip and a snarl, afraid for a moment that she might go for the fragile bodies of his daughters their life snuffed out by his own jaws. Yet, she did not and Kjalarr did not. He was still as the pirate whined and nuzzled him, receptive but he did not return it. To his (further) surprise Maude helped him dig their grave and though the viking wished to tell her that this was his burden: to dig the grave and bury his daughters he did not do that, either. He didn’t think Maude would listen, anyway and thus deigned not to waste his breath.

It was as he settled against the mouth of the den and turned his icy gaze to Maude’s lingering form that he heard Ondine’s weak whine for him. His ear twitched towards the den he blocked with his flesh and bone, only to slick back against his skull when Maude chuffed at him. It was almost ironic how in that moment he felt torn, a physical representation of many of his feelings. “I’ll join you in a moment, Ondine.” The viking promised his wife glimpsing over a broad shoulder to the mouth of the den before he turned back to Maude. “Thank you.” Kjalarr offered Maude sincerely, his ears slicking back against his skull. As for what else he was meant to say: he didn’t know.

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