Stavanger Bay talking bodies

The babies are old enough to venture out of the den now — and I wanted to develop Jorunn's monochromacy more. :-)

Jorunn and his siblings had been growing rapidly, though such things went by unnoticed to Jorunn past the initial surprise of gaining something new that he had not had or been able to do before. The young legend adapted with a swiftness that would put the strike of a cobra to shame, adapting rapidly to his new developments. The oldest son of Ragnar had been enjoying the pile of regurgitated meat, growling at any of his siblings if they came too close, asserting his dominance. This would happen until he either ate his fill, or if Thistle intervened. Asserting hos dominance over his siblings was normal for not just him but his siblings as they battled to deduce the leaders of his small world (ahem, him, thank you very much) which did not too often center around anything but his own self interests. It included Floki, as his twin and their special connection but Jorunn did not understand it other than he'd always been particularly close to his twin than he was the other two. The eldest and the youngest Lodbrok. 

He was able to babble nonsense and recognize himself by the names Jorunn, or his least favorite Jorunn Eitri — he was not able to fully grasp the concept of trouble yet but his ears would splay back when he heard his “full” name, though this was mostly caused by the stern and sharp tone that his mother used to reprimand him in. Being scolded was not on Jorunn's list of favorite things.  He had topped the meat off with a few suckles of Thistle's sweet mother's milk before, with a full belly, he let out a loud, childish giggle and zoomed off, too large paws trampling the dirt under foot as he cantered in a fierce and determined beeline for light and according mouth of the den. “JUJU!” He screamed, his best attempt to say his own name, before with a toothy grin that would have put Ragnar's mischievous smirk to shame Jorunn dove out of the den and into the wide world beyond it, enraptured by it ever since Thistle had introduced it to them. 

His gallop faltered as he squeezed his eyes shut, the light hard for him to look at. It didn't hurt per say — there was no physical pain associated with his difficulty seeing in the average sunny day (though daylight was harder as it was) — but it caused some level of discomfort because he had to squint until his eyes 'adjusted'. Seeing the world strictly in shades of gray was no easy feat, and his ability to see was hindered. New as it was to him, damaged as it was, he had yet to grown accustomed to it, or to even realize that there was anything wrong in the first place. He stood still and peeked each eye open slowly, moving to a shady part nearby so that he might have an easier time deciphering the shades of grey to shapes and objects.

The curse of the Völva had already taken hold.

Floki had tried a handful of times to infringe on Jorunn's meal, and had retreated from the snapping of his twin's teeth. No words were needed between the two -- they had a connection that neither of them understood just yet, but they communicated with body language, even moreso than with their other two siblings. Being a less confrontational pup, Floki was happy to defer to his brother, and instead amused himself by rolling onto his back and flailing his paws in the air, earning laughter from his mother.

When Jorunn suddenly took to his feet and darted out of the den, however, Floki paused. He turned onto his side, propping himself up and watching with wide eyes as "JuJu" emerged into the sunlight. He was never far behind his twin, so he hopped up and loped after Jorunn with the awkward, bumbling gait of a toddler.

He nearly bumped into Jorunn's backside, not having realized that he had stopped just outside the den's mouth. There was nothing wrong with Floki's vision, so he maneuvered carefully around Jorunn and came to a halt next to him, looking at his brother quizzically as the more dominant pup squinted and blinked. "JuJu?" he asked, as though that simple word encompassed a more elaborate sentence.

Jorunn's head inclined towards Floki absently when he felt his twin's presence, though the fall of small footfalls was enough of an indication, not that Jorunn truly needed any sort of indication. He sensed his twin and sometimes shared emotions with him though they were occupied with entirely different things than the other; surprise that quickly burned away to the tug of disappointment — not that Jorunn could place a name yet to the sinking feeling that struck and swelled within his chest — when he looked to his twin in full force, noting through squinted eyes, a huff of indignation falling from his lips like a child curse, that his twin did not seem to be having any issues adjusting to the light of the outside world. Determined to prove his superiority (because he's a jerk like that) he turned his shoulder sharply in the silent treatment at Floki's question — just a mimicry of his nickname, though it was understood by the elder twin — opening his eyes to normal despite that the onslaught of light truly did hinder his sight. The varying shades of gray had taken shapes, solid forms. Easily he could pick out a rock, to the tall grasses that swayed in the sea breeze, and even Floki when he decided he was over his previous bought of jealousy and jerk-ness and returned his attention back to his twin.

“Ki?” Jorunn returned, though his question did not mirror his twin's own when he had spoken. He could not yet grasp the concept that he knew, subconsciously, that something was wrong that he was defected, broken, but he sensed that something wasn't quite right. It felt off, but he didn't know enough words (or attempted words, even) to babble out what would be a burning question for months to come. Yet, his eyes had adjusted as well as they were ever going to, to direct sunlight and he was determined to preserver and barge through it like a tank. He wasn't going to let it chain him. Nothing could stop him. “Pway!” He demanded in a loud, childish shrieking laugh as his front paws pounded the earth as he stuck his rump high in the air, eyes locking on his twin as he offered his other half a toothy smirk reminiscent of their late father.

Although they were connected on an intimate level, they were still far too young to truly communicate with language or explain the inner workings of their minds. So Floki didn't understand why Jorunn suddenly turned away from him, momentarily ignoring his presence. His tail drooped for an instant, though the older of the two soon gave up the silent treatment and responded with a question of his own.

The tone of Jorunn's query was different than Floki's had been, although he wouldn't know of his brother's visual impairment until they were both old enough to realize that something was wrong. Floki was lucky enough to see the world in full color, so he took in the vibrant greens and blues around him with awe, one ear cocked towards his brother.

Jorunn's next demand, however, did not go over Floki's head; he clearly interpreted the meaning. "Pway!" he repeated, and he crouched in an immature version of a play bow, his little tail whipping back and forth behind him. He would wait for Jorunn to initiate the battle; that was the way their relationship worked.

Slight powerplay. If you'd rather I change it, I can! Feel free to power play Jorunn as needed! <3

Jorunn's presumptions superiority complex ran in the family, though it would seem that it came more from Eitri than it had Ragnar — not that Jorunn would ever get the chance to know that. Stories of his namesake had followed Ragnar to his grave, and the man that he was named after would remain nothing more than an enigma, if Ragnar had ever told Thistle of Eitri, that was, same as with Floki, himself. Fitting that the twins of Ragnar Lodbrok were named after the two most important wolves in his life: his father and best friend. There was a brief moment when Jorunn was bowed low, rump wiggling in the air to invite Floki to join him in a game in which he grew distracted by the rustle of the tall grasses around the mouth of the birthing den, before the movement of Floki going into the tell-tale bow of play position recaptured Jorunn's flighty attention. 

Jorunn studied Floki, but after realizing that his twin was allowing him to make the first move, a peal of laughter proceeded the bunch of his muscles as they pulled taunt seconds before he launched himself at Floki like he was going to wrestle him before he stopped short, simply to bop his brother lightly on his nose with his paw. “TAGGGG!” Jorunn screamed, ears pining back to his skull before he took off.

Floki's heart thrummed wildly in his chest as the excitement and anticipation built. Even though he was young, his instincts allowed him to act and react in play -- and engaging with Jorunn was one of his favorite things. He released a high-pitched yelp as the slightly older twin pounced, and braced himself for impact. But instead, there was a tap on his nose and a single word uttered -- enough to change the game entirely.

He grinned, understanding that he was "it" and his job was to catch Jorunn. His sandy-colored legs flew into motion, paws churning up the soft earth as he raced after his brother. A few times, he stumbled over his feet -- which remained much too large for his body -- but he bore down quickly on the zigging and zagging Jorunn.

"TAG!" he yelled in return, although he had forgotten a very important piece of the game -- he hadn't reached out to touch Jorunn. But he had already slammed on the brakes and was now moving in the opposite direction, eyes wide and tongue lolling from his mouth.

The boys played until they were exhausted. They returned to the den and flopped unceremoniously to the ground and promptly fell asleep.