Ankyra Sound Let mercy come and wash away what I've done

Ondine repeated his name in a “ha! I knew it” sort of fashion that made the viking snicker, but in a light manner. She continued to call him sir, but her tone signified to him that it was out of embarrassment and Kjalarr let it slide with a roll of his shoulders. He didn't care, so long as she respected his position and him. According to Thistle, Ragnar had been adored by those that followed him faithfully: it wasn't a bad thing to strive towards. “It's alright.” Kjalarr assured Ondine with a friendly, easy smile tugging at his lips.

One moment, things were fine (at least to Kjalarr they'd been perfectly fine) and the next the world had slammed side ways on it's axis and there was a cracking, palpable tension in the air between the two women, Ondine calling out the faces that Maude was apparently making at her. Ugly, as Ondine had called Maude, was a harsh word but Maude had taken extreme offense to it. Maude's screech caused Kjalarr to cringe at her side, his gaze flickering between the two women — not clued in on that he was the start of it all.

He hesitated as Maude snapped about if Ondine realized that she'd just insulted the Beta, unsure if it was anything he really wanted to get involved in. He had no experience dealing with feuding women — and in fact wasn't even sure why they were sending death glares at each other — and held to his silence, curious as to if they would work it out themselves or if he'd have to intervene. For now, he remained a silent sentinel, intrigued more than he should have been, admittedly (haha).