{j} perfectly reckless

The words that Majesty and Ypres exchanged between one another were many and continued to go unknown to the Tiny Viking who fidgeted where he stood feeling …nervous. He wasn’t used to having to trust the translations to a stranger. That wasn’t to say that Fenrir or Hati couldn’t have easily, with intention at that, messed up the translations purely in jest but at least he knew Kenna’s twins. At least he held some authority over them. He held nothing of any sort over this woman and was left with the uncomfortable knowledge of unknowing. Sköll did not like not knowing what words were being exchanged between the other male and female, his brow furrowed in confusion as he tried and inherently failed to make sense of their gibberish.

The female spoke to him again, however, breaking the feeling that he was being ignored in their exchanges, telling him that the Alpha …Majesty…wished to know what Sköll was good at. “ segja honum að ég er góður á lækningu, og að ég get barist” Sköll spoke back to Ypres knowing that compared to most it probably wasn’t that impressive and he probably should have mentioned that he generally disliked fighting and tried to avoid it if possible. He was a healer, not a killer though the distinction was, indeed, a very fine one.