Storm Front

Nochtli affirmed in a softened tone that she would stay clear of the coastal wolves. He would not tell her who she could and could not associate with but he doubted that she would be received well by Stavanger Bay and he had no doubt that they would always want revenge for Ragnar's death even if he had accepted his death. He was a Viking and Berserker after all — they lived to see Valhalla. He only wanted Nochtli to be careful who she befriended. Týrr's head tilted to the side as she named off a pack — one that did not strike him as familiar. “No,” Týrr murmured in response though he understood her statement had likely been rhetorical. “Well there is Tuwawi,” He paused and added softly, “And a woman named Fox, I guess, if she even remembers me.” Maybe a few more but he hadn't kept in touch with them if he had any beyond the ones he had named off to her. His sad number of friends was not something that the Rekkr chose to dwell upon.

Nochtli confirmed as much when it came to Xiuhcoatl and Týrr's face contorted into a frown. Though he had expected no less of an answer he had still kept a small sliver of hope for something better than sabotage. “How do we know that what she says is really Quetzalcoatl's will? I mean...she let me take this journey in the first place. She had to have known that there was a chance I wouldn't return.” Surely a Queen as revered as Quetzalcoatl had held the suspicion when she had seen him off with his garrison. If she hadn't accepted such a thing as reality why wouldn't she have just shot him down and commanded him to stay?

Týrr couldn't speak for her, though. He didn't remember enough to make such a claim of his mother and that frustrated him beyond measure. “I will warn Tuwa,” Týrr murmured in soft response with an affirmative nod seconds after the adviser had offered it. The rekkr had gotten half a snort out at Nochtli's nickname for Xiuhcoatl (not that he was sure what a shoebox was) that he choked upon when the shadow called Tuwawi his “lady love”. He felt a soft flutter in his chest at how casually Nochtli spoke the words, and he gasped a softly ragged breath of relief when he ceased choking on the air that he'd managed to choke on and let out a soft cough in a feeble attempt to hide it despite that he had come to the unenviable conclusion that Nochtli had more than likely caught it and trying to play it off smoothly was irrelevant. “Lady love?” Týrr  questioned, figuring that it was too late to go back now. The only path was forward, though he couldn't help but wonder if he was truly that obvious. Regardless, Nochtli had hit the nail on the end and frankly the soon-to-be King was tired of hiding it; or rather trying to hide it.