Ankyra Sound a little bit dangerous, but baby that's how i want it

open for anyone! also this is mostly a giant ramble of a post but i thought kja needed a new/updated thread. :0

 

Kjalarr's sleep had been restless and thus he had eventually given up on any pretenses and stalked outside The Grotto and found that his legs had taken him to the borders. A quick scent analysis reassured the viking that none had disturbed the markings that he and the others had left but because he trusted very few, he scratched at the dirt, rubbing the scent his paw pads secreted upon the earth to strengthen his mark. Alpha. Now there was one for the history books. A few days later and it was still a strange thing for him to wrap his head around. Admittedly, despite that his promotion now made him and Caiaphas on even ground he knew he'd still defer to her. She was Saltwinter's founding leader — she was the Queen, she was his Queen more importantly. It was kind of ironic that he viewed it as a shock when months ago — it felt like lifetimes ago admittedly — his greed and desire for the leadership (not just any old leadership position, mind) and jealousy had caused a massive rift between his twin and him; and furthermore only worsened the relationship between Charon and him.

It was rare that Kjalarr thought of him these days. His induction into Saltwinter had been exactly what he'd needed — had been the best move that Kjalarr could have made for himself. Thinking about Charon, as one point in Kjalarr's life, would have been enough to make the viking's blood boil, to make him feel nothing but white hot hatred and resentment. These days, he was surprised to find that he didn't exactly feel that anymore. He felt no affection for the Ostrega, but his ire was juvenile and Kjalarr had grown out of it. It had been childish of Kjalarr to rile and rebel as he had and he recognized it now, having grown up a lot in the past months, but he regarded that it had been childish of Charon to react the way he had. Though Kjalarr was sure that he was not welcome, for a split second he considered making the trek down to visit Floki and to draw a truce with Charon Ostrega. They didn't have to like each other (in fact Kjalarr was sure that they never would) but Charon was important to Floki and Kjalarr realized that he understood. Charon was to Floki what the Frostfur's were to Kjalarr.

Losing Whittier had put some things into a new perspective for Kjalarr, and bizarrely he found himself evaluating his life and where he wanted to be. He realized that if he was not already he would soon be old enough to sire pups and with Lusca's litter in their lives it brought the consideration to the forefront of his mind, though it was not the only one. Tying up loose ends was probably the best place to start, but on that he was hesitant. He was aware of the kill order upon his head if he went near Moonspear: their howls as he'd headed towards the Sound hadn't been discreet and that alone warranted that he discuss it with Caiaphas and Maude before he made the journey. It would be a far cry from a quick, friendly jaunt to Neverwinter Forest; but Kjalarr was tired of bearing a grudge he no longer felt. There was no longer any need for him to envy Charon and thus the childish envy and contempt had dissolved.

As strange and perhaps awkward as the thought of confronting Charon again after all these months in peace with the consideration of mending what had long since been broken (or at least making something more than enemies) Kjalarr pushed the thoughts out of his mind, a bit disoriented when his steps paused and he realized he'd been walking his routine patrol the whole time he'd been lost in his thoughts. He hadn't gotten too far but he squinted for a moment before he scratched at the ground again — unable to remember if he'd been paying attention to the strength of the borders or not while he'd been lost in his thoughts. With renewed focus he turned his attention to the borders and the territory outside of Saltwinter's claim, aiming to strengthen and keep alert for unusual activity.

Yer dazin' off agin, mate. She had seen Kjalarr blindly scraping the sand a long ways off, shaking her head as she approached and saw Kjalarr clearer. What was with him and staring into the distance all contemplative and hero like? That sort of habit wasn't the best to keep, especially for an Alpha.

Alpha. Just a while ago he was the Beta and she a lowly Gamma. Now they had risen up into the upper tier, assisting Caiaphas as leaders of Saltwinter. Was she to call him Cap'n too? Nah, he was First Mate. She was Second. You can't have two Captains after all.

She stepped up to Kjalarr, a wry smirk on her face. Wot'chu mopin' 'bout now? She asked, unaware of the death of his brother Whittier. She had just written him off as too weak to handle the harsh shore, and left it at that.

For a moment, as Maude's familiar voice drifted up towards him as he gave his best effort of focusing his attention up his patrols and not allow his thoughts to wander as they had moments before, he'd mistaken her words. He was about to retort that he wasn't dozing off only to realize that she'd said dazing in the stead of dozing. She hadn't been accusing him of sleep walking and the retort died in his throat. Instead, he offered an aired rise and fall of his broad shoulders. In fact, it hadn't sound like she'd been accusing him of anything: simply letting him know. He'd realized as much and responded with a soft grunt of agreement. There was no use in denying it, in scoffing and trying to play it off like he hadn't been going through the motions of a patrol without paying much attention. He'd been caught red handed, but because he doubted he was the first to use the patrols to the effect of settling worrisome thoughts he didn't offer an apology. Until she spoke he'd thought he'd been alone, truth be told.

The woman fell into step by his side and he regarded her with a glimpse, rolling his eyes but the gesture for show more than it was sincere when he noticed her wry smirk, accented only by her question. He spent a second longer looking at her than he normally wouldn't assessing the chunk missing from her nose and lip with some small (and rare) semblance of guilt, but in case she was self conscious about them did not capitalize upon them. “I wasn't moping,” Kjalarr corrected her as he paused to sniff at the borders before he scratched over it, his gaze flicking to her for a moment before it fell back upon the monochrome path before them. “I was just thinking,” He admitted with a soft furrow to his brow for a moment. “I've been thinking about a lot of things. Whit's death and my promotion put a lot of things into a perspective for me. I've got a grudge to let go of but doing so would require me confronting someone I had hoped to never see again in my life.” He wasn't sure why he was telling Maude — aside from the fact that he had just considered that if he was to make the (no doubt dangerous) journey to Moonspear that he needed to tell Maude and Caiaphas and get their council before he made the decision.

“It could go bad, if I were to confront him. There's a little complication of the, ah, kill order he put on my head.” Kjalarr attempted to cover the severity of the idea with a cocky smirk, speaking with a bravado. He wasn't afraid of Charon — he'd never been, and the idea of death did not faze Kjalarr; but he did have to worry (correction, he did worry) because he had responsibilities now. He wasn't the reckless, irresponsible little shit he'd been in his youth. “I haven't even decided if I'm going to do it but it's one of the things I've been thinking about most.” He didn't have to try make amends with Charon and it wouldn't effect his life either way if he didn't. His future was more important than his past anyway.

"Why're you up so early?" Kjalarr asked her then, changing the subject.

Maude listened as Kjalarr explained himself, her smirk dying a little as he mentioned the death of Whit, which she instantly connected to Whittier. Oh, so that's what happened to him. He actually died? And they were actually brothers? Well, shit.

She didn't know much about Kjalarr's life before Saltwinter, other than the fact that his father lived on the shore a while ago. This mention of a confrontation...so had beef with someone else? Not surprising, giving his very confrontational attitude. Holding grudges, not a new concept either, she thought as she remembered his reaction to her being in Saltwinter with a little smirk. But was he seriously thinking of going off to stare in the face of someone he wanted avoid as much as possible? Who had a fuckin' kill order (what was this guy, a mob boss?) on him?

Oi! Don't try an' change t'subject. She pouted as he swiftly went from old grudges to her being awake. I'm up coz I'm t'Beta now, an' I've gotta be all responsible an' shite. She honestly hated it, being used to waking up much later in the day both here and in Tortuga. An' this guy yer t'inkin' 'bout, yew related to 'im too? Though she was an only child, the notion of familial feuds weren't new to her. Lots of them happened in Tortuga, thanks to Cap'ns having many a bastard and those bastards tending to grow up in the same area...

Don't t'ink Caiaphas would like it if 'er new co-Cap'n went an' got 'imself killed or injured 'cuz o' some ol' grudge. How stupid was he to even think of doing such a thing, and right now? An' we got all t'is shite with them Seadogs an' t'other crew. Don't t'ink yew should be runnin' off god-knows-where.

Maude actually pouted at him as she scolded him for changing the subject but answered his inquiry nevertheless. Responsibility and shit. Kjalarr barely contained his amused snort. He didn't doubt she would not rise to the occasion of her promotion (thought the fact that she was up running a patrol with him was plenty of proof). If he didn't think she couldn't handle it, or wouldn't step up to the plate as their Beta he would have made his opinion known but he'd spoken in the pirate's favor when Caiaphas mentioned her for the promotion. Maude and him ...they had a rocky start and while Kjalarr still wasn't sure where they stood with one another (especially after that awkward thing that happened when he'd pulled the crab from her and gave her those scars, oops) he didn't hate her. Hell, he didn't even dislike her. Admittedly, Maude had begun to grow on him and if she wasn't around he would probably miss her grating sea shanties and attempts to get under his skin (which worked frighteningly well).

“Kind of,” Kjalarr responded to Maude's question about Charon. “He's my adopted brother.” Though a much younger Kjalarr hated the idea of calling Charon a 'brother' in reality that was what they were and this...this butting heads was a sibling thing. Kjalarr was the rebellious, independent younger brother who resented Charon for lording his “experience” and “i'm older than you” card over him. “Probably not,” Kjalarr agreed with a chuckle. “I didn't say I was going to do it Maude,” He shook his head at her. “Just that I was thinking about it.” But the desire to absolve the grudge and awful terms that Charon and him stood on wasn't just for Kjalarr's own benefit. It was also for the benefit of Floki, who admittedly would probably benefit from it more.

“If I didn't know better Maude-” Kjalarr paused to lift his leg and relieve himself upon the border before he kicked some grass behind him offering her a cheeky grin as he said, “-I'd say you sounded concerned.” He teased because it was there and because that was the kind of relationship they had, and also because he couldn't help himself. Well, he probably could if he put actual effort towards it but where was the fun in that?

Maude huffed, glad that he wasn't actually thinking about it; it was just speculation. Thoughts. She raised a paw, unconsciously rubbing the scars that Kjalarr thought of with guilty. Since they were so close to very sensitive and open parts of her body, she rubbed at them often, trying her hardest not to open or irritate them (that failed often).

Her rubbing stopped as his tease reached her, and Maude stared at him, first with confused, then flustered, then annoyed eyes. Yer t'bloody co-Alpha. 'Course I'm gonna be concerned. She growled, kicking a bit of sand at him.

He watched the myriad of emotions play across her face when he teased her with palpable interest, noting each one: from her confusion, to being perturbed and then to annoyance. A bastard's smirk played across his lips — one that was a mirror of his father's own (there was little doubt Ragnar lived on in Kja in ways). Maude went on to defend herself as opposed as to rib him back which Kjalarr felt was rather ...interesting. He'd been mentally preparing for some kind of jibe because well that was what Maude did. If he remembered correctly, it was she that had started their war of barbs towards one another, though after the crab incident something had...shifted between them and it wasn't something that Kjalarr could put his paw on, either. He didn't know how to decipher it and had tried to ignore it but ignoring it didn't clarify what was different and still left the viking with acute curiosity.

He dodged the sand as it flew at him from her kick — though he did not completely dodge it and small grains of sand stuck in the fur on his paws and wrists. Even if he could see colors more than something out of an old 20's film he would not have been able to tell the difference of where his sandy colored legs ended and the sand began. An amused snort left Kjalarr's nostrils as he squinted at her, allowing his long strides to match her pace. “Oh, so it's only because I'm the co-Alpha,” He teased her lowly, challenging her with his eyes to defy him (probably the only time he wanted to be defied was during a battle of wits, haha). “So, if I was a ...lowly Kappa or Omega, even, you wouldn't have a problem with me running off to my potential death, right?”

Because he got caught up in this game of teasing her he mused, playfully (in an extremely JK way because lmao, Kja would never ask for a demotion, like ever) “In that case do you think Caiaphas would demote me if I asked?” He asked airily. He didn't mean it. He'd been truthful with Maude when he told her he was just thinking about it and whether he saw it through or not depended upon both her and Caiaphas' opinion on the matter, knowing the potential possibilities before hand. But the daredevil part of Kjalarr — the one that acted first and thought of consequences later — was tempted by the allure of the danger. Granted, this was the same part that inspired Kjalarr to test his mortality not once but twice within a few months span of one another and needless to say this was a part of Kjalarr that he now kept in check because he'd matured. Besides, that careless and arrogant child had (for the most part) died a very long time ago.

If'n ye were t'Kappa or Omega I'd gladly drown you 'fore ye even tried t'leave. She trotted forward, trying to outpace him, though it was a lost battle given Kjalarr's longer, more powerful legs. What was he trying to prove? That she cared about him? So what if she did or didn't? He was a member of her crew and she was obligated to protect and "care" for everyone, or else the crew would crumble. It didn't mean she had to like everyone there. Especially not him. Especially not Hamlet back there.

When she finally turned towards him, meeting his eyes, she saw that he was daring her to challenge him, to fight words with him. It made her snarl. Wipe that ugly smirk off yer face. She spat, her lips curling in disgust.

As for if Caiaphas would actually demote him? Well....If ye asked an' she said no an' you went anyway? Aye. She'd prob'ly demote ye an' kick yer ass out.

“I see,” Kjalarr drew, in a falsely contemplative hum, processing her words. He let her outpace him as she trotted forward, allowing him to study her with a deep furrow of his brow and scrutiny in his eyes. It was only when she turned, met his gaze and snarled at him to wipe his smirk off his face did it leave his lips. Shock was quick to fill the voice of the smirk. It was the first time he could recall that Maude had gotten hateful with him, and for the life of him Kjalarr could not figure out why. They'd always had a match to kerosene sort of standing with one another, sparking off each other but this was something different entirely. Or, at least, this was how it felt to Kjalarr. Instead of teasing him back she was ...defensive was the only word that came to his mind. Nevertheless, she did not rise to meet his jibes with her own and Kjalarr was not sure what to make of it.

“I was joking Maude,” He clarified when she actually provided him with a response to his airy question. Like he was actually going to ask that. He'd bring his thoughts by Caiaphas as he did Maude but Caiaphas' word was final and if the coywolf queen told him no then he'd let it go. Floki and him had been doing well enough without Charon and Kja being on good terms thus far. Besides, if Floki and him hung out it wasn't any of Charon's business. Still, it was something he could try to do for Floki and allow that grudge and envy he no longer felt and was tired of carrying around to rest for good.

“Maude, did I do something to offend or upset you? Because before you'd trade jibes with me until we were both blue in the face and now you're...not. We're a team now and you should tell me if something bothers you.” That was kind of the point of being an Alpha: lead, settle disputes, be a listening ear, all that good stuff. “Even if I'm what is bothering you. Especially if I'm what is bothering you. I can't fix it if I don't know the problem; and there's definitely something because you're ...different towards me.” Kjalarr was many things but being unobservant wasn't one of them. And they were going to talk about it because the viking was fully prepared to be relentless until he agitated her enough to get her to come clean with him.

Ever since the Crab Incident (as her brain liked to categorize it), Kjalarr had confused her. It was clear to her that she was attached to him, but the feeling was at once familiar and alien. Unlike the others, where she would latch onto them and curry their favor, she latched onto him and annoyed the hell out of him. In principle it was the same, and yet there was something entirely different about her relationship with him. She didn't know how to explain it, never being one of those emotionally depressed poets who kept going on and on about the supposed darkness in their souls. If something about her confused her, she got rid of it as best as she could, hence the scarring down there. But she couldn't just get rid of him (ok, she could, but that would complicate things further).

She turned to him, slightly confused by his genuine concern. Her face was skewered into a mask of confusion and incomprehension. I dunno. Was all she could say of the matter. She honestly did not. All she knew that he, them, confused the hell out of her. And she was kind of stuck with him. maybeheshouldjustleaveandfindhisbrother

She didn't know? How could she not know if he'd offended her or not? The notion that someone didn't know whether they'd been upset or offended was a ridiculous one to the viking who immediately rejected it as a viable answer. I dunno wasn't an answer to him. It was an attempt to skirt around the truth (or at least this was what Kjalarr thought). He wanted to scoff at her response but found that he... couldn't. Her insight onto what the problem was between them — what had changed (never mind that nothing said it had to be a problem) — was grating at his nerves and entirely unhelpful, if Kjalarr was going to be honest about it, but he found that he believed her. Or at least, some small part of him did. He didn't know what was different, nor what it was or what it meant only that it was. She had changed towards him and that would have to be enough. At least, for now.

Which meant that he hadn't really left square one at all. Instead he'd just did a complete circle and wound up back where he'd begun. Knowing something was different with no further explication or clarification. “Ok,” Kjalarr accepted with a roll of his shoulders. He stopped to scratch at a faded spot in the borders, spreading his scent along it before he caught back up to her, staring fixedly on the path ahead of them.

Luckily for her, Kjalarr accepted her half-assed answer, leaving the pirate to regain, or attempt to regain, whatever snark she had left. 'Nuff dilly-dallying then. She trotted ahead, turning back and watching as Kjalarr re-marked the borders, leaving his scent in the sand. The thoughts were quickly tucked away in her mind, ignored for now but surely to be thought back upon later.

The Beta marked the borders at intermittent times, scratching at slightly faded points, sometimes outright squatting. She chattered randomly now, about random things and topics as if to fill the silence and awkwardness that was them. If Kjalarr didn't answer her, she would simply sing a shanty instead, at too high a volume and widely out of tune, as she always did.