Barrow Fields blood and wine

twinnnn <3!!

Concentrated as he was on trying to detect any scents ...familiar and foreign to him Kjalarr was unaware of the other until a voice called out to him. Even in the seconds it took him to process that Floki had called him Tevinter — briefly forgetting that he had yet to correct his twin as he had Whittier — he sensed the familiarity of his twin without even having to look at him. Yet, when he did turn his silver and caribbean gaze to his twin — different from him in what Kjalarr believed to be every conceivable way — the tension of ire left the Viking's shoulders and his failed hunt was forgotten in the jubilation of seeing his twin again. Kjalarr realized that in a way — hearing one of his “old names” again sparked the idle contemplation — he was sort of like the Allfather, Odin: he was accumulating quite the collection of names. Jorunn, Tevinter, Kjalarr, though he hoped Kjalarr would be his last. It was exhausting to try to remember to remind or let everyone know he had changed it ...and then there would always be those who called him by his birth name.

“Floki,” Kjalarr called back and loped quickly to cross and eliminate the distance between them. They had promised to see one another again but their duties and their differing paths kept them busy. Still, Kjalarr intended to not waste this time while it had presented itself to him. “How are you?” The scarred Viking inquired, holding back the brotherly nudge of greeting he desired to give his twin. Things were better between them but Kjalarr wasn't sure if they were good enough to greet each other like that or not and he was careful to let his twin set the boundaries of how cool with one another they were.