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“Good,” Kjalarr murmured softly when Caiaphas ensured him that she could call upon him soon to go on an out-riding mission soon. That, he was very much looking forward to. It had been a long time since Kjalarr had went out on a mission of any kind — any and all plans he'd had of that back in Moonspear had been tarnished and ruined within his first few weeks in their ranks. The events that had separated them could not be undone, and the constant power struggle between the favored of Odin and Ragnar against Charon could not be forgiven nor would Kjalarr apologize for it. The similarity and parallels that Kjalarr were able to draw to it from Thistle's re-account of Ragnar's own telling of his power struggle against his eldest brother Björn only made Kjalarr's cause seem more righteous and made him feel well ...like his father. To know that Ragnar had endured a similar struggle and had come out as the victor and the favorite of the powerful Allfather gave Kjalarr strength and dangerous ideas.

Kjalarr's pace slowed slightly as Caiaphas picked up her's, his icy silvery caribbean gaze following her shadowy form as it moved ahead of him against the light gray of the beach and the darker gray and white of the ocean as it roiled to and fro upon the shore. “Good night.” He called after her, pausing long enough to watch her form disappear in the distance before he adjusted his course and headed inland with the intent of catching himself a midnight snack before he would continue on with his patrols.