Drinks are on me!

Apparently, Iqniq did not speak Tonravik's native tongue, which meant he did not come from wherever the black bear had been born and raised in. But it wasn't really surprising to the newcomer, he didn't act like her, he wasn't as stoic or as serious as most of the wolves he had encountered in the Spine, or as coarse and rough in speech. Arverk should have known...god, he'd grown so stupid over his travels, he knew his fighting and hunting skills might be a bit rusty..but his brains? That was unexpected.

A small smile touched the Roman's maw at Iqniq's quip, yes, the smoky black whale should have seen it, should have known. But it was in the past now, and he wasn't going to chastise himself, he didn't need to have the image of 'crazy' stamped on his face.

Blue eyes drifted to the view when both of them surrendered to silence once more, it didn't bother the Roman at all. Silence had become his companion when he was on his travels, and he had been used to not speaking in days, weeks, maybe even months. He didn't keep track of time, time to him would simply pass, and keeping track of it simply wasted precious brainpower.

Arverk smiled, "I prefer 'solitary warrior' to assassin. I was a bastard, my people cared a lot about status, so I was only allowed to be a soldier with others — all wolves in my natal pack were soldiers —, everyone shunned my sister and I, so we did all the jobs that could be done alone," the black wolf shrugged, blue eyes unfocused for a moment as he wondered how to answer the next question. "I don't particularly enjoy any assignments. It was my duty, so I did it. But I did enjoy the spars..." He felt truly alive when he was fighting.