Stavanger Bay little memories, marching on

it's all good ♥

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his father one worded-ly explained: snow. wow! giggling playfully about his new discovery, he frolicked rampantly in circles around his father. his joy was extended when his father leant down -- he assumed to kiss him -- but was alarmed when his father chose to barrel him over than to display and paternal affection to his discovery. he was shocked as he lay defeated in the snow, but no sooner scrambled to his feet, adamant on preserving his face from the mounds of snow his father was attempting to push on top of his underdeveloped body. it was a bit of a struggle to keep up, after all, his father was quite the large fellow and grimmy was but a wee nugget in comparison, but a rather fun activity in regards to his instinct to keep his head above water. no sooner later did his father awarded his efforts of play survival and deduction of person with a word of praise, that he was indeed good.

however, the topic of conversation -- not that isengrim could really hold a decent conversation at this point -- soon switched to that of a girl he had thought little if at all about in the last few.. forever. "noop!" he shrugged the topic off with a mere shrug of his shoulders (hopefully out of his father's thought) and continued to play. he did know, but he didn't really care and hopefully, that was that; his father's full attention was better veered him rather than her. isengrim was much more important in isengrim's opinion; he continued to attempt to clamour above the rising sea of snow as he thought so. 

however when syzmon praised the existence of qilaq like he had to isengrim, it became the deal breaker of his annoyance towards the topic of qilaq. his brow furrowed and his face scrunched as he leered back to glare at his father from within the snow, ceasing his attempts to rise above the snow. his squinty and accusationally fixed eyes could barely reach past the mounds that had been dumped on him but he glared all the same and with it came a defiant, “no,” not more than one of his father's children could be good all at the same time, he had come to the conclusion briefly just seconds ago and couldn't really see what this qilaq had done to earn his father's approval (nor was he particularly happy about the lack of attention he was getting).

with a huff, he plunked his butt down in the snow, sitting among the frigid material in defiance to his fathers -- qilaq's -- silly game. with a shout, he expressed his disapproval, “ME!” translating to: just him and only him.

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