who are you for one, i don't feel again you

Adjusting to what he took be his new life in Nova Peak was ...easier than he'd thought it would be; but things were horrendously different. He was used to knowing his place (at the top of the puppy heirarchy) and in Nova Peak he had to recognize the cold hard truth: that he was a stray. He didn't truly belong there, but his lack of knowledge about his home made finding it a near impossibility; and that was assuming he was still in the same area as Stavanger Bay. He had no concept of distance and had no idea how far the sea had actually tossed his body around before finally dumping it. The past days (or was it weeks?) had Jorunn on the best behavior he'd ever exhibited in his short life. There was no fighting over the best choice of meat — he let Scimitar and Bazi's children eat first and took what he was given. There was no assertion of his dominance; for while he still had the urge (used as he was to being the first born) he did not act upon them, playing the quiet, obedient orphaned child.

It was Jorunn's natural defense (though unintentionally likely also in his best interests) and he clung to it like it was a life jacket. He only played with the other children when he was invited too, and minded that he didn't play rough as he would have his siblings. His place was at the bottom here, and he knew it. He accepted it; which for the self-centered viking child was a huge achievement towards growing up. He was startled awake from his light sleep when he felt someone give him a rough nudge with their nose. Sleepily, he blinked up at the shadowed shape of Bazi, ears slicking submissively back to his skull as she whispered that they were going for a walk. She was easier for him to see in the dark and he had no trouble shuffling from the corner of their den he slept curled in and followed her outside. “Where we going?” He asked her, unable to help his childish curiousity, though his voice was soft and laced with traces of sleep.