Firefly Glen in the name of carrying the world on your back

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His agitation drew paramount and then crashed down in a wave of calm after a storm as the familiar voice of his twin broke the swarm of his thoughts and his gaze took the unmarred version of himself in with a hefty sigh of relief. It was instantaneous and Kjalarr did not hesitate as he strode to close the distance between them and embrace his better half. Whether Floki was here because of divine intervention or because he had picked up on the agitation and need to see him Kjalarr didn't know and wouldn't ask. It didn't matter. What mattered was Floki had materialized and that it had been too damn long since they'd last caught up with one another. Now that Kjalarr lived closer he hoped that they could spend more time together. “Floki,” Kjalarr greeted him with a wide smile and wagging tail.

“I have much to tell you, brother.” Kjalarr began but did not elaborate. “You look well, Loki,” He assessed, pleased. “How have you been?” Because slowly Kjalarr was learning to put others before himself and if there was absolutely one bridge in the world that he did not want to set fire to (again) it was the bridge with his twin. Over time, Kjalarr would learn to turn to his wife Ondine as a confidant but it would never be quite the same as the absolute and unwavering trust he had in Floki.

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