Stavanger Bay dark before the dawn

Jorunn was not yet at the age that he fully grasped the concept of emotions  that went beyond his own — though in truth the understanding of his own was a hazy thing filled with many unknowns and uncertainties. Though the young legend could not fully understand that he had upset Charon, he had sensed from the mood change in the atmosphere that Charon wasn't happy with him. Despite this vague awareness that he'd done wrong, affirmed by Charon's tone. It was not to the point of reprimanding, but Jorunn's ears splayed to either side of his head, nevertheless. Still, Jorunn was as stubborn as he was defiant and refused to make the attempt at amends. He didn't want to babble because someone was telling him too, he wanted to babble because he wanted to communicate, or impress them by the fact that he could.

The small curve of Jorunn's chest puffed with indignation as he continued to silently stare down his older brother, ears cupping forth towards Charon as the older boy spoke, though, admittedly, most of his words went in one ear and out the other without much but extremely minimal understanding happening. Someday, should Charon decide to retell his tale Jorunn would better understand it (and possibly find it a bit morbid with his and Charon's deaths?). Instead, Jorunn puffed out his cheeks and let the air pass through his lips slowly, wondering if Charon had more stories for him, or if his patience had reached it's limit.