Ankyra Sound you're just a ghost

“I know little about my father, in truth,” Kjalarr admitted. Though Caiaphas was the only one that he could say possibly knew the whole story (and perhaps even then she did not know all of Kjalarr — he and Tori can't remember) he realized that holding it like some of secret might make him seem untrustworthy. He had nothing to hide, in reality. It was simply a tragic story. There was no great shame in it. “All that I know of him comes from stories. He was killed before I could really know him, I was probably only two, maybe three months old and very shortly after his death I...there was a bear that had came into our borders and I was a stupid child. I approached it and when it tried to eat me I flung myself in the sea and was taken away from my family. I washed up on this very Sound.”

There was a furrow to Kjalarr's brow and his salmon pink tongue grazed across his jowls as he recounted it, skipping parts unless Slancio was determined to ask for them in full. “When I found my family again,” What a nightmare that had been! “my mother was very distant with me but she answered my questions about my father well enough." Kjalarr took a moment's breath offering a soft pause. “I am told I resemble him greatly, except for my legs that is.” He held up a sand socked leg which to his monochromacy simply looked like a darker grey against the platinum silver of his coat, but that was all Kjalarr had: the word of others. Sure, he'd seen Ragnar true enough in his dreams but if the wraith of his father was to his actual likeness or simply how Kjalarr dreamed and imagined him to be the young Viking could not say for sure.