Bearclaw Valley return

i'm too lazy to translate atm so speech bolded & italicized is meant to be icelandic, lol.

A bitch. It is a vague answer and it causes a slight frown to tug his lips downwards but Wardruna respects her wishes and lets the topic drop though it is with reluctance. Sif is his wife and anyone who causes her harm would have to face his unbridled and brutal ire. Or so Wardruna is eager to believe, anyway. His gaze moves to the wound briefly once more before it rises back to her mahogany gaze. Her words draw his ears forth, attentive as she speaks of her brothers, that she found them and that they reside on the coast. There is a stretch of time where Wardruna feels nothing as he processes the information she gives him, evidently confused about where this conversation was going. She looked unsettled, eyes owlishly large and if he was looking to take any cues from her the northerner was left even more confused. “Your brothers,” Wardruna repeats, trying to contemplate what this means. Is there devotion towards blood in her? He shares no such devotion to his own aside from striving to do better. Was she willing to leave him behind in pursuit of her blood ties? He cannot help but wonder next. Is it a good thing? A bad thing? “Do you want to be with them?” He inquires softly, slowly, as if he is afraid of the answer, ears fluttering back against the curve of his skull in mild trepidition.