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

It was a strange thing...to apologize, for it was not something that Kjalarr found himself uttering often. He did not believe in speaking in without sincerity — and in fact couldn't remember the last wolf he'd apologized to. Floki, perhaps. Maybe Scimitar. Regardless, it had been too long that he couldn't say for certain. A simple shrug of his broad shoulders was offered when Maude stuttered briefly over her words meant to ...what? assure him that it wasn't his fault. No, the crab attaching itself to her face hadn't been his fault and that hadn't been what he'd been apologizing for. He hadn't meant to rip parts of her flesh off but he had not bothered to think of any better way to go about the removal of the crustacean from where it had clung to her flesh. Maybe there had been...but then again, maybe there hadn't been and it was what it was.

Kjalarr kept to his silence, though, even when Maude put to words her gratitude. It was a simple “thanks” but Kjalarr got the feeling that it was as rare as his apologizes. The situation turned awkward quickly — though perhaps Kjalarr was simply feeding off of Maude's energy. The silence stretched between them as he diverted his eyes feeling the heavy oppression of awkwardness himself. “You're welcome.” Kjalarr rumbled gruffly. This...wasn't what he was used to. He was used to her constant jibbing and digging herself under his skin to the point that when they held some semblance of a normal conversation Kjalarr was left without knowing what to do. His gaze skimmed over her, watching as she picked up the crab for a moment before he inhaled deeply and let it out, his ears splaying back to rest at half mast atop his skull.

“You think you'll be ok?” Kjalarr asked then, out of courtesy. It was apart of his job as Beta, after all: to look after the wolves of Saltwinter and Maude was just as much a member of Saltwinter as Kjalarr himself and the Viking had a responsibility to her — same as he did every one else.