dream in black and white

Ein would come to learn, in time, that Tveir was just as unrelenting as the eldest Nameless himself, as it was fighting back with everything Ein dished out to him. It would have been impressive to the First Born if he was capable of finding things impressive at his current age. As it was their inability to back down from one another would serve purposes of equal opportunity as they aged and trained and sparred with one another; and perhaps instead of warring with one another they could turn into a whirl-wind of destructive force of nature to be reckoned with as a team. Or maybe they would end up as Ragnar and his siblings had: distant and always at war with one another. The future wasn’t concrete and Ragnar considered that as he watched the boys wrestle.

Tveir answered Ein’s own coo in some unspoken moment of joy, and a small reprieve from otherwise tiresome butt kicking, but before Ein had the ability to catch his breath and prepare for another assault upon his younger brother Ragnar had intervened and rudely interrupted their fun. Still wiggling on Ragnar’s leg, trying and utterly failing at propelling himself over it he had attempted to reach out to Tveir only to watch as his brother ungracefully tumbled nearer in a clumsy manner of assisting. Not that Ein would have had any room to remark upon his brother’s clumsiness if he had been able too. He was just as clumsy if falling on his bum hadn’t been an obvious indication.

An indignant cry of confusion left Ein’s muzzle as Tveir attacked Ragnar’s other leg …which was proving to be the most unhelpful thing ever to Ein who was still stuck on Ragnar’s leg, lacking the strength push himself over it entirely. He wiggled violently, yelping demanding at Tveir to help him off of Ragnar’s leg since Ragnar, amused by the show, offered no inclination to assist his eldest infant son in any manner.