{j} perfectly reckless

I've always pronounced it like skull but with a heavy 'o'.

The other male introduced himself as ‘Majesty’ though the name was still just as foreign and weird to Sköll as almost every word the other man spoke. Sköll mimicked Majesty’s nod of understanding because he wasn’t even going to attempt to say his name very aware that he would butcher it if he did. His eyes went to Ypres as she spoke that she could translate and would help him. An apprehensive relief surged through Sköll at the knowledge that he wouldn’t have to stumble, blindly, through this process. It was humiliating that he had to ask for a stranger’s help of course (male pride and all) but he was unsure what else he could do. Majesty and him could not effectively communicate with one another and it was becoming the problem that Sköll had, in something of a prophetic manner, feared it might be. “þakka þér” Sköll told her though his body was as tense as a taunt bow string because he had to put a blind faith in her to not tell Majesty that he was some rabid monster who came to eat the children — because it wasn’t like Sköll could tell the difference. The common tongue was more or less, just a bunch of useless babbling and gibberish to him.

Sköll watched as Ypres turned to Majesty and began speaking their gibberish, a heavy breath leaving him as he waited for some kind of verdict hating that he did not know the woman who could easily condemn him if she wished, could easily, too easily lie to either male, in reality, if she translated wrong or just wanted to be vindictive. It was an unfair assumption for Sköll to make but the Tiny Viking was suspicious when it came to trusting absolute strangers with delicate situations. She looked back to Sköll then and offered the Tiny Viking a smile before she spoke in the gibberish tongue once more and patiently, Sköll waited for the translation of whatever Majesty had to say come through.