Firestone Hot Springs each must die someday

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Kjalarr watches as Rian sinks low, and though the Viking knows that he should feel guilt for making the boy cower he does not. He has been Alpha for months now and whether Kaskara’s time spent down from leadership ranks is temporary or not he does not currently know. The time for retaliation is over. Kjalarr has no time and no more patience to kiss the feet of the wolves of Neverwinter Forest. Kjalarr is not Scimitar, he will never be and he does not strive to replace his adoptive father for doing so will only bring insult to his memory. He does not will for Neverwinter Forest to change but change is natural, it is unavoidable and to remain the same is to remain stagnant and possibly to bring certain doom. If it is failing then it must be changed, to evolve; but change is not the top priority on Kjalarr’s mind. Currently: he only seeks to weather his pack through the storm, to see them safely through the winter with as little casualties as possible and if that means he has to heartlessly sacrifice a few animals (or wolves, even) to do it then he will. He sacrificed his daughters to ensure that Arrille lives and grows strong and old. He tells himself it was a kindness, that they would not get better but part of Kjalarr is reluctant to fully believe it if only because he didn’t know and now he would never know.

“This storm is dangerous,” Kjalarr felt the need to reiterate though surely the boy already understood this. Perhaps his words were hypocritical but then again: Kjalarr was a northman. He was built for these harsh, cold climates …and he had faith that Skadi’s favor would protect him as it had so far. He had brushed close with death, close with the valkyrja more times in his life than he cared to admit. He does not fear it for he knows where he will go when the valkyrja do come for him; regardless he has no plans of dying. “The steam of the hot springs will warm you, come,” He gestures towards them where they waited with his muzzle. The smell is atrocious but he would rather suffer the sulfuric smell then have his cousin (or himself) freeze to death.

“I came to make a sacrifice to Skadi,” Kjalarr responds honestly, sure that Rian, if he’d been following him already saw and noted the untouched corpse. “she is the goddess of winter and the hunt. It is important to keep her favor through this storm she has created.” It was a storm to end days, to snuff out lives before they had a real chance of living or before they were ready to go. Skadi’s favor was very important to the Viking who strove to see only the safety of his family and the pack.

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