Blacktail Deer Plateau my spirit spurns control

"Depends, who is asking," Birk replied, hiding his surprise that this man seemed to know, what he was talking about and that maybe it had not been that wise to blurt out about his origins. To be true - he had picked out and memorized those facts from his family history that he found either silly and interesting or those that could impress people, who were not familiar with the wolves of the Ice fields.

"Funny you should mention him - slained my great-great-great-something ancestor and flooded the land with his blood, killing most of the others," that had been a fun bed-time story his mom had told him as a kid. In other words - stay out of the water or the ice cold jotunn blood will freeze you to death. 

"But no hard feelings there. Can't put a name on the clan, but plenty of the bold, the beautiful, the ugly and stinky too," he just could not forget his horrible aunt. She was an epitome of the ancestral jotunns. "So - Odin's son - who are you?"