The Tangle masked in blood and bathed in fire

his assumption — that she is not helping but seeking to ward him off from her borders — is proven correct when she says much of the same thing. he appreciated the honesty and could hardly fault her for it when he knew and had mentally admitted previously that he'd have done the same thing. helping may not have not have been the intention but in the end, though, it did help him and the nord could not let that go unpaid. though vilkas did not err to the dramatic it occurs to him that he could have gotten lost indefinitely within the tangle and perished from starvation — for while that does sound overly dramatic he'd already proven he wasn't adept at navigating the witch trees and there was, as pre-established, a distinct lack of prey scents.

vilkas didn't notice when her cold smile had vanished, only that it had with a sweep of his seaweed green gaze as she remarks that 'grimnismal' is a nicer name than 'pack'. "'pack' isn't that bad of a name," he counters with a slight curl of his lips into a what would be a smirk would it have been full-blown. "it's simple. easy to remember." the firebrand is partially joking, without being very sure as to why. she'd already offered him his out and yet he still hasn't taken it. instead of making for the exit, the mercurial whitemane lingers to make stupid jests ( something he is not overly talented at, mind ).

he shifts his weight then and his partial smirk morphs into a more serious expression. he's switched gears easily back to what he contemplated earlier: the debt he feels he owes. "selfish as your reasons for showing me the exit may be i owe you a debt of gratitude nevertheless." vilkas informs her.