Fairspell Meadow November skies

While darkness was a comfortable friend to Kjalarr this darkness was decidedly very different from the one he drew comfort from. He struggled, pausing to snap his teeth at the bugs that mussed his fur as they landed and took off, converging in around him ...at least they did not devour him as they devoured the plant life around him. This was no Ragnarok he'd ever been told about: his mother spoke of a wild hunt and the endless night not a plague of bugs; but he could not fathom what else it could be. This was kind of like an endless night, he supposed. Yet, where were the Gods? Kjalarr couldn't claim that he was scared but if this was truly the twilight of the gods, if Ragnarok had come then it was too soon and Kjalarr was not where he'd hoped to be. He wanted to be with Odin's warriors, fighting not left to suffer the devastation the Gods and their heathen army would no doubt leave in it's wake.

He thought he heard Wildfire's voice call out to him, but it wasn't until he drew nearer, two shapes began to form through the writhing mass of thousands of locust bodies — distinctly canine. The scent she bore was unfamiliar to the viking but beneath the new scents that she carried upon her pelt Kjalarr recognized her as his twin's ex wife. “Wildfire,” Her name left his lips in a relief but his gaze flickered to the strange male beside her. Kjalarr could not be sure but his body posture appeared tense. For a moment, he studied them quickly wondering if this was who Wildfire had left his brother for. His assumption made it was all that Kjalarr had not to be hostile towards him (never mind that he was dead wrong, lmao). “Are you okay, Wifi?” Kjalarr asked Wildfire, turning his attention purposefully to her intended to ignore the male near her to the very best of his efforts.

Kjalarr didn't extend the question to the male, simply for the fact that he truly couldn't have cared less.