Coconut Grove a shadow in the corner, just playing along

Caiaphas' response to his question, more or less reiterated his thoughts on the matter of the weird fruit-nut things: it was food, and that was enough. Kjalarr decided, finally, that he wasn't all that fond of the sweet fruit — it was not tangy like the taste of bloodied meat (though each meat tasted different, definitely) but he deduced that he liked things more suited to his pallet — poignant and tangy tastes that matched his bitter and harsh soul. They gathered what few they could and as Caiaphas rolled them into the small clearing he pulled one towards him, sliding back down into his favored sphinx-like position, stationing the spherical object between his large paws and began to chew at the hard and resistant rind, more or less mimicking his actions for the first one, knowing that, eventually, it would splinter with his efforts.

An ear flicked towards her as she spoke. Her vagueness on what she had to ask him immediately had the Viking curious, and he paused on his assault of the fruit-nut thing, to swing his head to face her, fixing her monochrome colored form in his glacial gaze. “Of course,” Kjalarr invited, encouraging her to ask whatever was on her mind, his curiosity rising to tantamount beneath his chest — though he was hungry for knowledge habitually and he found long ago that he was always intrigued; despite his attempts to futilely guess what it was she wished to ask him he was left entirely unsure of what to expect, and thus waited patiently.