Ankyra Sound rock and roll could be your savior

It did not surprise to Kjalarr when she did not immediately seek to respond to his question, instead appearing to favor what he'd spoken before his question to her. This wasn't exactly something new with their interactions, and Kjalarr didn't really think much on it other than to consider that maybe she didn't like talking about herself; and as narcissistic as it was Kjalarr could not claim that he didn't like to talk about himself — because he did. He tried not to be obnoxious about it, and didn't think he was the greatest thing to grace the earth — as it stood his borderline self destructive thoughts tended to cancel any hauteur of those levels. He was a moderate narcissist confident but could be humble when it was required of him. Not in all cases, of course, but generally he kept up a balance.

For a moment, he contemplated her questionings, wondering what made her so willing to pry. Most wolves would accept what he'd spoken as an acceptable answer without requiring an explanation. He turned his responses over in his head as they walked, for a moment losing himself in the rhythmic rise and fall of the waves against the shore, the water rushing towards them and receding just as rapidly. “Of course Ankyra Sound is treating me well,” He broke his silence. It was honest — thus far he had no reason not to love every moment he spent in the Sound. He only hated that his decision to do what was best for him likely drove a fissure between the fragile relationships he'd managed to build with his mother and twin. But what was he supposed to do? Expose his belly and pretend to be something he wasn't just so it would appease Lord Asshole? Kjalarr wasn't really the submissive type, though he had no qualms about showing proper submission to Caiaphas or Vlad, or any of the wolves of a higher rank to him in Saltwinter ...which only went to prove Kjalarr's belief that Charon was a shit hole “brother” and even worse leader.

Kjalarr had only to assume that Charon's biggest problem with him was that he stood up to him and thus, Charon felt threatened by him. There was no proof of this other than the proof Kjalarr chose to gather; but it didn't matter anyway. Nothing anyone could ever say to him would ever change his mind on it. “I'm glad to free of the dickhead that calls himself king of Moonspear,” Kjalarr let out a low, mirthless chuckle coupled with a rise and fall of his shoulders in a casual shrug; nevertheless he was quick to let it drop not wanting thoughts of Charon to ruin his good mood. “I'm glad to be here, and I've begun to put all that drama behind me.” And embrace whatever future the Gods had planned for him.