Stavanger Bay Life's a little sideways

After learning about Wildfire's unexpected and abrupt departure, Floki slipped away from Moonspear under the cover of darkness. As soon as he crossed its borders and his paws pressed into the soft earth that was unclaimed by any pack, his resolve crumbled. He inhaled sharply, drawing the crisp air into his lungs, and promptly began to sob.

It took him a few minutes to compose himself, and once he did, he loped towards the coast. He followed the all-too-familiar path to Stavanger Bay, eagerly anticipating the feel of the gritty sand beneath his feet and the sensation of the salt spray against his face. The coast had belonged to him long before he met Wildfire -- he could regroup there and could be alone with his thoughts for a few hours.

By the time he arrived, the sun had risen. He carefully avoided the ash trees that marked his father's former burial grounds and beelined for the beach. As soon as his feet touched the sand, he felt a rush of relief -- coupled with an overwhelming sadness. He couldn't tell Charon how upset he was; he knew that his brother felt betrayed too, but they both had to put on a brave face. Now that he was away from Charon, he waded into the ocean's frigid shallows and hung his head, though the tears didn't come.

Kjalarr was not sure what drew him into the embrace of the day, nor to what inspired him, so very suddenly, to go to Stavanger Bay. He still felt the sting of the anger at who had desecrated Ragnar's grave and the habitual territoriality of what had been his — of what he should have been ruling — but he had been more concerned with establishing his place in Saltwinter, and going on scouting trips and guarding the sound's borders. It kept him occupied, so much so that the bitterness within his heart had begun to fade, because he'd allowed it to be buried by what was more pressing to him. The Frostfur's still loved him, and he had a home in Saltwinter. He was doing well for himself even if his selfishness and decisions had burned bridges along the way. So be it. Besides, Ragnar had killed his own brother — a bridge couldn't burn any worse than that; by comparison to his late father Kjalarr was practically a patron saint or something.

An unrest had settled in the viking's heart as of late, though he had not truly paid much mind to it ...that was until he noted a too familiar silhouette in the shallows of the ocean. It was if a puzzle piece had slid into place. Kjalarr didn't need to see Floki to know that it was his twin. He just knew; he knew in the way one knew how to draw breath. The unrest intensified as his steps ceased, studying the low hang of his twin's head wondering if Floki's emotions manifested themselves within Kjalarr in the form of restlessness. An itch to take action of some kind ...but for no reason that had been apparent to Kjalarr. 

For a moment, the favorite of Odin considered turning around — leaving the scene as abruptly as he'd been drawn to it, with Floki never the wiser. But the truth was: it had never been Floki Kjalarr had wanted to hurt. It had never been Floki that Kjalarr wanted to sever from his life. Only Charon. It was only Charon that Kjalarr had any sort of issue with. “Floki,” Kjalarr called to his brother in the mimicked accent of their deceased father, feeling a surge of protectiveness swell within his chest. Someone had hurt him and the instinct to make them pay for hurting his baby brother twin was strong but he knew nothing of the situation. For all he knew, he was the cause of it ...and that hurt Kjalarr more than he could ever say.

Kjalarr was many things, but a coward was not one of them: thus he remained rooted to the spot, knowing that he would not relent even if Floki ignored him. “What is wrong?” Because Kjalarr did care. Of course he cared. Floki, for better or worse, was his soul mate — in the manner of one soul split between two bodies — his better half and there was no switching that off, no matter the distance and chasm of emotions between them.

The gentle ebb and flow of the ocean water against Floki's ankles was soothing, and he stood still for what seemed like a long time. With each of his senses, he took in his surroundings -- the feel of the spray, the salty smell of the air, the sound of the waves crashing gently on the shore. Had his twin brother not spoken aloud, he might not have been alerted to his presence; but that familiar voice caused Floki's ears to stand on end as he bristled, turning abruptly to look at Tevinter.

His first instinct was to grow defensive; after all, his last interaction with his littermate had been overwhelmingly negative. But as his cool Caribbean gaze roved over Tevinter, he slowly realized that there was nothing threatening about the other male's stance. Rather, he was calm and concerned, his brow furrowed in worry as though he could read Floki's mind. They had been separated for so long -- essentially since the bear attack -- that the young Beta had almost forgotten that his twin probably could intuit his thoughts just from observing him.

But did he trust Tevinter with the sensitive information weighing on his heart? He didn't feel comfortable explaining the whole situation yet, so despite the fact that he knew that Tevinter would be aware he was lying, he said, "I'm fine." Then, perhaps to deflect the spotlight from himself, he asked, "What are you doing here?"

Kjalarr anticipated hostility from his twin and then felt the guilt that it was such a rude thing to accept. It didn't matter that Floki idolized Charon — at the end of the day Kjalarr knew his twin wasn't Charon and could not be held accountable or even in the same vein as the arrogant and childish alpha male of Moonspear. Kjalarr's breath caught in his throat, the strong column of his throat constricting briefly with anxiety as Floki turned towards him, bristled. Kjalarr did not return the defensive posture his twin had taken, instead keeping his own relaxed, at ease. He wasn't here to pick a fight. That wasn't what he wanted. He wasn't sure the damage he'd done to their already fragile relationship was repairable, or that Floki would even be willing but Kjalarr was determined to try. 

Kjalarr could not help the narrow of his pupils in a squint as his twin, sensing that his almost mirror image was lying through his teeth but after a moment the viking offered a simple shrug of his shoulders in a languid rise and fall. Kjalarr wasn't sure he believed Floki but given the tension between them and their numerous negative encounters with one another it didn't seem like the time to push the issue; thus Kjalarr accepted it. “I do not know,” Kjalarr responded honestly. It was truth: he wasn't exactly sure why he'd been drawn to Stavanger Bay aside from the strange connection they seemed to share; but it didn't seem like a good time to bring that up either. “Just stretching my legs, I guess.” Kjalarr lied simply.

For a moment the Saltwinter Gamma was silent, blinking down at the sand that stretched between them before, slowly, he lifted his gaze to his twin. “but since we're here, I want to apologize to you for ...everything.” Kjalarr wasn't sure an apology would suffice for the bridges he'd burned but it wasn't like feelings hadn't been hurt on both sides; nevertheless it didn't make his jealous outbursts right and Floki hadn't deserved to take the brunt of Kjalarr's pent up anger and frustration. “Everything I said to you was wrong, and I know it's not right but I had not been in a good place; and I am proud that you've been promoted to Beta, for what it's worth.” Out from under what Kjalarr had seen as Charon's tyrannical reign it was easy to see the mistakes he'd made with Floki, and easier to not feel jealous about what his twin had accomplished in his life. Kjalarr still hated Charon to his core but he saw no reason his feeling for Charon had to come between Floki and him.

Neither brother seemed to be fully willing to divulge the truth as to why they were there. When Tevinter replied evasively, Floki did not press for more information. After all, he hadn't given an honest answer as to what was troubling him. It hurt, in a way, even though he had been the first to put up the wall; it was painful to think that as children they had communicated without even speaking a single word. Now, despite the connection they still held, it felt like there were miles between them.

But he was surprised when Tevinter continued, going so far as to apologize for what had been said weeks ago and expressing his pride in his twin. Floki's brows raised; he sounded so different, so diplomatic. It was certainly not what he had expected to hear, but it was soothing to his soul. He wasn't ready to accept his twin back into his life with open arms -- and he anticipated that Tevinter felt similarly -- but it was the first step towards mending a relationship that he had previously thought to be irreparably damaged.

"Thank you," he said quietly, dropping his chin in a brief gesture to show his gratitude. "I really appreciate that, and I'm sorry, too." He had said some terrible things to Tevinter as well; they were both at fault, but if they were willing to recognize it, maybe they could move past it.

Kjalarr did not expect his apology to magically make everything better nor cement the rift that circumstance(s) had left in it's wake. In fact, he almost in an extremely pessimistic way, expected it to be shot down. The problem seemed to be that under Charon tensions had ran far too high for Kjalarr and the alpha male's presence had made Kjalarr's life downright miserable in Moonspear even if no one was willing to place the blame on Charon (except Kja himself, of course). Things were better when he didn't feel repressed or like he was being forced to live in someone else's shadow; because Kjalarr wasn't a shadow. He was the favorite of Odin like his father before him. “I don't hold it against you, Floki,” Kjalarr spoke honestly. “Things are very different now. Things are better.” In fact, in little over the course of two months he'd risen to the rank of Gamma. Power wasn't everything to Kjalarr ...but in a beast of pride it was nice to be recognized through promotions. It was something of a love hate relationship with it.

Silence fell among them, then, and for a moment Kjalarr was not sure what to fill it with. “How are things at Moonspear? How's mom?” She, too, had not been happy with him and despite his plea for her to meet him on the coast she had failed to do it. Or, perhaps, she'd decided not to. Kjalarr supposed he couldn't blame her but it stung regardless. For a moment, there was a brief bought of fear that Floki's odd behavior meant something had happened to Thistle Cloud ...but surely if that was the case he would tell him. It was something that Kjalarr, despite everything, would have deserved to know.

"Things are better," Tevinter assured his brother, and Floki felt a twinge of jealousy. Tevinter had left Moonspear behind, separating himself from his biological family, and his life had improved -- while Floki's had crumbled before his very eyes. He was still the pack's Beta, and still had Charon, Thistle Cloud and Amekaze, but Wildfire's absence left a gaping hole in his heart. And after all that had happened with her, it was hard to have a positive outlook on life.

But somewhere deep inside, Floki was happy for Tevinter. The scarred brother deserved to find his happiness, even if it wasn't with his kin. Floki's lips parted to ask where he called home these days, but Tevinter beat him to the punch, instead inquiring after Moonspear. He wasn't about to say anything about Wildfire, but he could easily talk about their mother.

"She's good. She still keeps to herself a lot," he admitted -- he couldn't remember the last time he had spent an extended period with Thistle Cloud. Guiltily, Floki realized that he should probably visit with her more often -- and even more guiltily, he remembered that he no longer shared a last name with her. That was a piece of news that he knew Tevinter wouldn't appreciate, so he held his tongue, instead venturing to ask the question that had occurred to him just a bit earlier. "So...where are you living?" he pressed curiously, even going so far as to step out of the water and move to close the gap between himself and Tevinter.

Kjalarr was not surprised when Floki mentioned that Thistle mostly kept to herself — this reclusive behavior was something that the Loðbrok had noticed and had attempted to bring her around from by their lessons but the truth was her stories of Ragnar were so full of life and Kjalarr wondered if their father's death had affected their mother more than she cared to admit. Sometimes, it was hard for Kjalarr to match her to the spitfire healer she often described herself as. She was a force of nature when she was angry — this he'd seen first hand — but she withdrew into herself more often than not. “I'm glad she's well,” Kjalarr would have offered to visit her but given how aggressive things between him and Charon had been during their parting Kjalarr didn't forsee that being a good idea. Neither did he particularly want to step foot anywhere near Moonspear or Charon. A reckoning would come to Charon and strike him from his throne but if it would be at Kjalarr's teeth he didn't know.

Kjalarr noted that Floki had stepped out of the water, making to close some of the distance between them prior to asking the question that Kjalarr had sort of been dreading. There had been reasons he hadn't stated where he called home; mostly because he didn't want Charon to know. For a moment, Kjalarr hesitated; but his trust with Floki had to begin somewhere, didn't it? “Saltwinter, the pack that lives on Ankyra Sound.” He eventually spoke, inhaling deeply and letting it out in an equally as deep exhale, hoping that he did not regret the trust he chose to give his twin.

"I'll tell her you said hello," Floki offered with a small smile. He knew that the unrest between Tevinter and Charon did not sit well with Thistle Cloud, and that she likely worried about her biological son. She would be happy to know that he was doing well for himself and that he had joined up with a pack on the coast.

He was curious to hear more about Saltwinter, but did not want to pry. There had been a hesitation before Tevinter gave his answer, and Floki wondered if that was representative of how their relationship would be. No longer was it so easy to talk with his twin, and he could tell that it was the same from Tevinter's point of view. The thought of telling Charon about Tevinter's pack didn't even cross his mind, however -- somehow, it seemed like there was an unspoken agreement about this meeting between brothers, that it was a safe place to talk despite their misgivings.

"It must be nice to live so close to the sea again," he commented, turning his gaze to sweep out over the gently rolling waves.

“Thank you,” Kjalarr murmured to Floki with gratitude when his twin promised to pass along a greeting. Kjalarr was not so sure that Thistle currently cared much for her wayward son but it was nice to know that Floki was willing to pass along, at the very least, the greeting. What Thistle chose to do with that …well that was up to her. A soft noise of amusement left Kjalarr's lips when Floki mentioned about the sea and how it must have been nice to live by it once more. Indeed, Kjalarr thought, it was. They had been born close to it and despite that it had almost stolen Kjalarr's life he loved it, loved living next to it. “It is,” Kjalarr responded with a soft smile tugging at the edges of his scarred muzzle. “I didn't realize how much I missed it.” He admitted. 

“Which reminds me,” Kjalarr drew, glimpsing left and then right over his shoulders, as if he'd remembered that Stavanger Bay wasn't their home any longer despite that it had ceased to be their home a very long time ago. “I don't know if you're aware or not but there's a pack on this coast, they claim the Isle north of here, that you should be careful around.” Kjalarr passed along the same warning he'd given Scimitar and Kaskara, just in case. “I haven't came across any of them personally but my alpha was attacked by them.” Perhaps his warning was unnecessary for they'd been quiet as of late but Kjalarr was inherently not so willing to give the benefit of the doubt; and the very last thing he wanted was for his twin to be attacked by them.

Floki frowned, glancing surreptitiously up the coastline as though the pack that Tevinter mentioned would magically appear. He found himself wondering if these were the same wolves that he had confronted near Ragnar's grave; they hadn't been physically aggressive, but there had been something menacing about them. Perhaps it was the same group that had attacked Tevinter's new Alpha.

"Thanks for the heads up. I actually ran into some weird wolves when I was here a few weeks ago..." he said, his voice trailing off. Did Tevinter know about their father's burial site? He hesitated, then decided it was worth bringing up. Tevinter was Ragnar's son too, after all, and if anything he appreciated the old Viking much more than Floki ever had.

"Actually, I was visiting Ragnar's -- Dad's gravesite. Someone had dug it all up," he added, the furrow in his brow deepening. "Have you been by there lately?" he then asked. Charon's words echoed in his mind -- it didn't really matter what had happened to Ragnar's bones, because they kept the memory of him alive in their hearts and minds. But it still disturbed him to think that someone had been audacious enough to wreck a cemetery plot that hadn't belonged to them.

“I did too,” Kjalarr murmured softly, mimicking their deceased father's accent carried through the tenors of his subconscious memory and dreams of the viking king. “it was only one wolf and I managed to chase him off.” Stavanger Bay may have been left to be reclaimed by the wilds, it was and always would be his birth place and in that a small piece of his heart belonged to it. “I know,” Kjalarr sighed, breathing in the salty tang of the sea brine as it whipped around them, two nearly identical shards cut from the same glass. “It's part of the reason why I had wanted mother to come meet me on a free territory,” Perhaps Ragnar's empty grave would hurt Thistle more than it hurt either of her sons. It angered Kjalarr, but because he saw it as a direct affront. It was disrespectful to the legend whose bones nurtured it and disrespectful to them as his children.

“Have you told her yet?” Kjalarr inquired with muted curiosity. Perhaps, he briefly considered, it was better that they kept their silence, especially if she did not actively visit the grave as she once had. Perhaps Thistle didn't need anything else to grieve over. “He isn't concerned with his corpreal body. It was just a stepping stone for him to reach his true goal: Valhalla. There he feasts and fights among the Gods.” A place that Kjalarr (believed) he'd seen in his dreams, though he did not speak of them. In fact, only Wildfire had ever known about them and even then Kjalarr had remained vague, at best.

“How are things going for you? Well?” Because he hadn't asked and this truce was a tentative peace; but it was a start, and Kjalarr was glad for it. It was certainly better than their last conversation with one another and that was something.

Floki noticed the subtle change in his brother's speech pattern, and had his eyes been closed, he might have mistaken Tevinter's voice for Ragnar's. It was curious, considering they had both spent minimal time with their father, but he felt a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. Somehow, it just seemed right for Tevinter to take after Ragnar; where Floki failed to honor their father, he knew that Tevinter would make up for it.

Beyond the accent, Tevinter's actual words were concerning. Floki worried about the population of wolves near Stavanger Bay. There was nothing they could really do about it, since the territory was unclaimed, but he didn't like the thought of these roguish wolves disrespecting their childhood home. He hummed thoughtfully under his breath before replying.

"She knows," he confirmed; Thistle Cloud and Charon were both aware of what had happened to Ragnar's grave. Ironically, he realized that Charon's thoughts had almost mirrored Tevinter's exactly. Maybe there was hope for the estranged brothers to reunite in time, though Floki certainly wouldn't be the one to try to push either strong-willed wolf towards the other. "You're right," was his quiet response, accompanied by a wistful smile. He hesitated before sharing any further information about his personal life, but then was unable to keep the dam from bursting.

"I'm not great, actually. Wildfire left Moonspear," he said, averting his eyes to the ocean. Surely Tevinter would want more information, but he refrained, first contemplating how to deliver the details without divulging too much.

This peace between them was nice, Kjalarr found, and there was a rise of hope within him that the damage Kjalarr had caused and the bridges he'd sworn he had burned were not unable to be repaired. After all, Floki had been unfortunate to be caught in the cross-hairs of Kjalarr's ongoing war with Charon and it had never been his twin or his mother whom he had wanted to disassociate with. Only Charon. A soft acknowledging grunt left Kjalarr's throat as Floki informed him that Thistle knew of the destruction done to their father's grave; yet, perhaps insensitively, Kjalarr did not inquire how she had taken the news. There was nothing he could do for her, and in some selfish ways he didn't want to know how it hurt her. Or worse yet, if she felt nothing at all. Some things he thought, he was better being ignorant to.

Floki's eyes averted and he admitted that he wasn't doing well — something through the strange connection that kept them bound together intuitively that Kjalarr had felt in a manifestation of restlessness — and the viking ghosted a step towards his brother as if he meant to physically comfort him but held himself back for the simple desire of not pushing that tentative bridge they were building here. “I am sorry, truly,” Kjalarr spoke, trying to puzzle out in his head what would make Wildfire leave Floki. For a moment, without knowing anything other than the very vague information Floki had provided him with, there was a swell of rage towards Wildfire in his chest — the desire to protect his twin rearing strong within him, despite that the damage had already been done.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” But it was an open invitation and thus allowed Floki to decline if he wanted.

Tevinter was sympathetic but did not push for more information, instead letting Floki decide whether or not he wanted to share. He appreciated that about his twin, and felt a momentary pang of regret that they had allowed their bond to be nearly shattered in the first place. Jealousy, anger, and miscommunication had been the culprits, and while he wasn't sure if Tevinter and Charon would ever reconcile, he was at least glad that they had made their own peace.

He shook his head lightly. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to Tevinter, but he was weary of even thinking about what had happened. Aside from that, he still felt that it wasn't his story to share in its entirety. Even if he never saw Wildfire again, he wouldn't break her trust in that way. Where previously he had felt frustration at her abrupt and unannounced departure, he presently was just resigned.

"I guess she just decided she would be better off elsewhere," he said, his tone flat and lacking any affect. It wasn't the most unbiased explanation and was largely based on what he had been told by Charon, but she hadn't been the only one hurt. He still felt betrayed. He gave his head another shake, then forced a smile. "Anyway. I'm really glad I got to see you, but I should probably head back to Moonspear. Can we meet up again soon?" he asked with a hopeful wave of his tail.

Floki was vague with the details of Wildfire's departure and a frown pulled at Kjalarr's scarred muzzle as he contemplated those words. The Wildfire that left Moonspear and his twin didn't sound like the Wildfire that he had known — the one that he remembered. She had seemed to be in love with Floki enough to Kjalarr but the viking had to remind himself that some time had passed since his departure from the Moonspear and he had no idea what had transpired. Regardless, there was nothing he could say or do to fix it and though he felt like he should have readily had something comforting to say to Floki the truth was that Kjalarr had nothing. Besides, he deduced after a second of thought and an errant swivel of his ears that perhaps there was nothing for him to say.

“I'm sorry to hear that. I know how much she meant to you,” Was what Kjalarr settled for not wanting to come off as insensitive but wondering if after he spoke his attempts at sympathy might have only potentially made things worse. He wasn't very good at “comforting” or anything of the sort; and he'd always felt a little awkward about conversations that involved talking about feelings (even his own). “Of course,” Kjalarr was quick and eager to agree, offering his brother a grin as Floki brought up about meeting again soon. “I would like that very much.” The viking admitted softly, genuine with his words. It felt good to rebuild what he had through previously burned beyond repair between them. Things hadn't been right since he'd been swept away by the sea but this was much further than they'd gotten even before and Kjalarr was excited at rekindling what had been lost between them since they'd been small children.

When Tevinter agreed to meet him again, Floki was quietly overjoyed. He kept his excitement carefully hidden, instead offering his twin a subdued smile and a nod of his head. His relationship with Wildfire might have fallen apart, but he was happy to know that his connection with his brother had stood the test of time.

"I'll come back to the coast in a few weeks -- close enough to Saltwinter to howl for you," he replied, thinking aloud. He couldn't stay away from the beach for long, and besides, he was curious to see the place that Tevinter now called home. It was doubtful that he would receive a tour of the territory, but he would at least be able to map out its location in his mind.

Reaching out to press his snout firmly and affectionately against Tevinter's shoulder, Floki met his eyes for a long moment, then turned to go. "See you soon," were his parting words as he turned his paws homeward, leaving his sorrow with the rolling waves and vowing to start a new chapter.

“I look forward to it,” Kjalarr responded to his twin's words, ears splaying bad for a second wondering how mad Charon would be if he knew Floki and him had reconciled and were planning on meeting one another again. Not that Kjalarr cared for what Charon thought but he didn't want Floki to suffer or get in trouble for it; but Kjalarr had to remind himself that his twin didn't need his protection anymore. They weren't children and the viking hoped that his twin wouldn't let the alpha of Moonspear push him around and would stand up for himself. Kjalarr offered his twin a nudge to his neck, reveling in the rightness he felt at being at peace with his twin. This was how they were supposed to be. Brothers. “See you soon, 'Loki,” The old and familiar nickname for his twin slipped off his tongue. Kjalarr had struggled with the 'F' in front of his 'loki' within his twin's name for quite some time in his youth. He watched Floki until his twin's figure disappear into the horizon before Kjalarr turned and headed back towards Saltwinter, glad that he'd ventured out.