Ankyra Sound cruise

Kjalarr had been studying her for her reaction to his lie unsatisfying response to her question on his accent but looked away out of some semblance of propriety that he had when she squatted to mark a sequoia. It wasn't often he took note of the differences between males and females — except for the one time that he had as he enjoyed the intimacy he'd shared with the stranger he knew to this day only as Freyja — yet he was sure that Devin didn't particularly want him staring at her while she aided him in marking borders regardless. Besides, it wasn't often he had company on his patrols. The last to accompany him had been his brother Whittier. Kjalarr had moved onto a new stretch of the borders a few steps ahead of Devin, pausing to sniff at them when her question caught his attention.

The laugh that came from Kjalarr was a hearty thing and wholly unexpected., rumbling from deep within his diaphragm. It was by far one of the most bizarre questions he could remember being asked, to date, but then again this was the same girl who had just, moments before, asked him how he'd gotten his accent and thus it should not have surprised him as it had. “I can't truly say,” The Viking responded mischievously. “I've never squatted to piss before.” And in fact wasn't sure that he could — at least not without peeing all down his leg and as that truly wasn't an appealing thought to the vain Nord he wasn't about to try it.

“You ask strange questions Devin.” Kjalarr pointed out though the chuckle in his tone spoke that he was merely teasing her and that he did not mind. Thus far, she provided good patrol company. Certainly better than Whittier's bitching and moaning the entire time — though Kjalarr was unaware that in a few days times he would come face to face with his brother's death and the realization of just how much he would miss the complaining.