Ankyra Sound I'm totally not screwing with you, man. Totally.

Kjalarr had been doing his routine patrols on an empty stomach his hunt had been a failure and rather than waste what energy remained on another hunt he put it towards tending to his duties as Beta. It was far from ideal but if he was being honest with himself the whole famine wasn't ideal. It was a nightmare — akin to Ragnarok but somehow, he felt, it was worse. Not the twilight of the Gods as he'd first assumed but rather a punishment from them of some type. He wasn't sure the motive but it was the only conclusion the Viking could come to and thus it sufficed. He struggled to believe the very simple notion that something like the swarm could just happen at random.

A curse caught his attention, his ears flickering idly in the familiar voice's direction not so far from his current position. It was true that he didn't particularly enjoy Maude's company by any stretch of the imagination but he did have some sort of obligation to be cordial and tend to her survival ...as he did with any member of Saltwinter. It took him a moment to grasp the situation, as bizarre as it initially was to him, noting the crab (in all it's colorless, monochrome glory) clinging to Maude's nose as if it's life depended upon it — which no doubt it did. She seemed to be grappling with the clawed beast. “Everything well here, Maude?” Kjalarr snickered, biting back the laughter that bubbled as a forewarning in the deep curve of his chest. “Or do you need assistance with that mighty beast?” Perhaps she didn't need help but currently the smug asshat that was Kjalarr Loðbrok was enjoying this scene and his interpretations of it much more than he should have. Unable to hold it back anymore he barked a laugh: hearty as it was.