Blackbeak Bluff bon temps

The inky girl asked him if he would still train her if she was not granted an acceptance into their ranks. He had not quite thought of this possible outcome, but he imagined that he would be able to vouch for her; it could very well have just been enough to make a difference in Wylla's eyes. He mulled her question over in his mind several times and then frowned. “It would be easier to have you in Grimnismal,” he remarked to her gruffly. It was not a promise that he would still take her under his wing if she was denied, but still did not come off as being dismissive. Kierkegaard would leap from that bridge once he had arrived at it. Until that time came, he would assume that she would be allowed in without too many qualms.

Kaori; the name latched to his mind and he nodded his skull as if to tell her that he had heard her and he understood. “I am Kierkegaard,” he then returned in the form of a grunt. She asked him if it would be best to shed the name or if she was better off keeping it. The ghost shrugged his shoulders and one side of his mouth shot down in a half-frown. “You can keep it if you're attached, or we can find something else for you. It's your call, kid,” he finally answered and looked to her to see if she would make her mind up immediately.