Wheeling Gull Isle i count the final seconds
ásabragr
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Ooc — torvi
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#7
For a moment Kjalarr struggled to understand her, her accent butchering her words in ways that the viking was struggling to comprehend which words they were meant to be. His face, Kjalarr thought (hoped?), did not betray his struggle except for the slight wrinkle of his scarred muzzle as he puzzled out her odd and accented way of speaking to try to discern what she was telling him. guði ofangreindar Kjalarr cursed in a low mutter under his breath, favoring Norse in the hopes that it might conceal his frustration by using a language he hoped she didn't know, though whether his frustration was as evident as his annoyance was not for him to decide. Thistle had taught him as much as she could of Ragnar's native tongue but Kjalarr wasn't the world's most patient student when it had come to language (evident enough, I think, by his lack of patience currently?, haha). “No offense,” Kjalarr's teeth clicked together menacingly. “but I'm going to check things out, just to be sure.” Which loosely translated to if she cared anything for the wolves she'd once ran with she had better hope that all of them were smart enough to disperse from the Isle, because if he found them? Well, they were fair game. They'd attacked Caiaphas and that wasn't something Kjalarr took lightly. They shouldn't get to run free from their crimes committed against Saltwinter's sovereign. 

Her body moved closer to his and he snapped his teeth at her, his gesture aggressive. Kjalarr had no doubt that she was quite enjoying this and couldn't help but wonder how much she'd enjoy it when he finally had enough of her teasing and put her into her place with his teeth at her throat. That he would do with great pleasure. For now, he reigned control of his temper with a flick of his ear, as if she were an annoying fly he was warding away. “We'll see,” Kjalarr drew, unconvinced, with a roll of his eyes before he shrugged into the treeline, pausing to sniff at the ground. The scents were fading and it appeared as if the Isle was, truly, abandoned by the wolves that once lived here. Still, they were only at the outer rim of the territory: there were many places yet that any of her past “crew” could be hiding out.

i almost typed ragnar instead of kjalarr, omfg. i need to go back to bed >___>

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Messages In This Thread
i count the final seconds - by Kjalarr - April 17, 2016, 06:33 AM
RE: i count the final seconds - by Maude - April 17, 2016, 08:44 PM
RE: i count the final seconds - by Kjalarr - April 19, 2016, 04:37 PM
RE: i count the final seconds - by Maude - April 19, 2016, 06:55 PM
RE: i count the final seconds - by Kjalarr - April 21, 2016, 03:26 PM
RE: i count the final seconds - by Maude - April 24, 2016, 07:05 PM
RE: i count the final seconds - by Kjalarr - April 25, 2016, 06:23 AM
RE: i count the final seconds - by Maude - April 26, 2016, 06:42 PM
RE: i count the final seconds - by Kjalarr - April 29, 2016, 04:29 PM
RE: i count the final seconds - by Maude - April 30, 2016, 09:16 AM
RE: i count the final seconds - by Kjalarr - April 30, 2016, 11:27 AM