Neverwinter Forest if the high was worth the pain

Kjalarr took a moment to revel in the touch of Kaskara's muzzle to him, a slight tremble tearing through him at the affection the small and simple touch held. For a moment, he wasn't sure what to do with it, but he knew he did not wish to turn it away and returned it with a bump of her muzzle before she moved on to repeat the action to Scimitar. For a moment he watched them and felt something swell in his chest as he acknowledged that this family that could have so effortlessly left him for the Wilds to claim and kill him had taken him in and loved him as if he was one of their own. That meant much more to Kjalarr than he could ever convey in words. He was a Loðbrok but he was also a Frostfur and he was sure to never forget that. Part of it was probably why Charon hated him so much and his willingness to insult those that had raised him as one of their own was definitely some of the issues Kjalarr held with the Alpha of Moonspear.

“Perhaps next time I visit the introductions can be made,” Because providing nothing kept him at bay Kjalarr fully intended to visit them, as often as he could. “I do not wish to keep you from your duties.” But it had been nice to see them, especially after he'd been sure they had left these Wilds for good, and investigating his suspicions had proven to be the right thing to do.