Storm Front

Nochtli drew closer to bump her shoulder against his, though why she had been drawn to do such a thing had not became clearer to Týrr when the shadowed amazon spoke. Her words came out sounding soft to the Rekkr as she assured and seemingly tried to console him by admitting that she did not have many friends either. “I never had friends in Odinn's Cove either though I had thought it'd been because I was envied as the Jarl's son...” Of course now their aversion to him made absolute sense. He was the son of their rival and not just any old son but the crowned prince of the Amazons; Ragnar had been arrogant and would his mother or any of the woman had gotten word of his presence there it would have brought war upon the Vikings. Not that they feared war for they were a warmongering culture but he was an internal threat to them even if he had amnesia. “There are few I trust in this world,” And that survival instinct was not without good reason.

Týrr's frown increased and a small nagging of guilt agitated in his chest. He felt guilty for not feeling guilty. After all how could he feel guilt about something he couldn't even remember? “Still,” Týrr insisted though not unkindly. “I like to think my mother is wise enough to know that it was always a possibility.” He didn't want to speak bad about her, nor for her so he settled for nothing less than an assumption which was all that the Rekkr had. “She has likely replaced me with strong daughters. Let my sisters rule in my stead and keep to the true traditions that Coatl's Rise was founded upon.” His will was selfish and yet also selfless at the same time making it feel like an entire contradiction. Was it even possible to be selfish and selfless at the same time? Týrr didn't know.

They continued their descent into the cave, the light from it's mouth gradually decreasing the deeper in they went “I wasn't going to deny it,” Týrr reassured her briskly, and then let out a soft albeit heavy sigh as he contemplated for a few moments, ears splaying to either side of his head. “I care about Tuwawi, a lot; and more than in a platonic way,” Of course it was extremely likely that Nochtli had picked up on such a thing but he felt better getting it off his chest, regardless. “She is beautiful, passionate and strong,” He had admired her greatly before his admiration took a different path to form his initial crush; and her return had brought the crush to light once more but also made him realize a harder, perhaps more frightening truth: that his crush had moved into the next stage. Dangerous, especially not knowing if his feelings would be reciprocated. “I don't know if she's even looking for another mate, or if she could ever return my feelings. I just... don't know.” He admitted heavily. He wasn't good at these kinds of things because he had little experience in the area. He felt like a fumbling fool and worse yet like a pup with a boyhood crush that could be crushed at any given moment. He was ...scared and he didn't know what to do with it.

“Only wisps of things and brief flashes like deja vu. Names, like Tartok, and Siku ...at least I think they're names. I seem to have more subconscious knowledge without knowing how I know it than anything. I feel like I was split when Manauia revealed the truth and Ragnar's widow confirmed it and that I am re-merging together with the more things I remember.” Slow as the process was. He didn't know how to explain it, and hoped she could somewhat understand what he was trying to communicate.