Ankyra Sound You're sailing from another world

The coywolf was quick to realize his mistake, Kjalarr noted as he adverted his eyes and took a step back, accepting Kjalarr's dominance. Kjalarr's posture spoke of his aggression for a stretch of moments longer — a few heartbeats before the aggression passed and he drew his salmon pink tongue across his jowls in acceptance. While his aggression might have eased after being appeased by the aversion of the loner's eyes, Kjalarr's dominate posture did not lessen, however. Just in case the coywolf forgot his position and forgot who he was dealing with.

Admittedly, the tides were not immediately in the coywolf's favor. A deep breath was taken as Kjalarr clung to his stoic silence, contemplating it. “How did you survive most of your life if you've spent it alone?” Kjalarr couldn't help but ask, finding the words...strange. The coywolf couldn't be too much older than Kjalarr himself, perhaps younger, if the Viking had to guess. Kjalarr had been swept away to sea when he'd been just three months old and had nearly died of starvation (and dehydration) within a few days of being spit back out of the sea. Were it not for Scimitar and Nova Peak Kjalarr's bones would have been picked clean or eaten all together by scavengers and he would not have been standing where he was today.

Thus Kjalarr thought himself rather adept at knowing what it was like for someone young to live alone — which was to say death waited to snatch up the young and the frail at first opportunity. "What skills can you offer Saltwinter?" He asked next after he'd given Bain time to respond to his first question, listening for a reply as he contemplated.