Cerulean Cape In an upside down world, floating in a pineapple

suits you. the woman — kai he reminds himself — claims. kjalarr was not the name he'd been given at birth but jorunn had died so very, very long ago. kill the boy and let the man come alive. 'kjalarr' was one of the allfather's numerous names and the scarred northman is not unaware of it's meaning. the nourisher. it sounds like such a joke to him now. he is not a nourisher. not by nature. not even close. átli suits him much better but 'kjalarr' is the name that those in these wilds know him by. "you are the only one who thinks so." he comments wryly with a smirk tugging ever so slightly at the edges of his lips. it amuses him even though he doesn't agree with her.

she spares a moment to take another beat of her meal. kjalarr is not perturbed or offended that she does not offer it. he wouldn't offer any to her, were the tables reversed. besides, there is barely any meat on crabs anyway. it would be better to catch his own even if he did want any. in general, he prefers more substantial meat. meat that does not bear the salty taste of the sea's water. her observation hits the proverbial nail on the head and kjalarr lets out a small, amused snort of confirmation. "seen a lot of things. survived a lot of things. done a lot of things that most haven't." done a lot of things that most would likely bulk at. killing his own daughters without giving them a chance to see if they'd live. turning to cannibalism to survive a famine. turning against his adopted older brother and by extension what was the rest of his family. usurping a pack simply because he wanted it. the list was endless and would no doubt grow with each passing year.

despite his verbal confirmation kjalarr is aware that it was likely redundant and that he hadn't needed to confirm anything. she'd already guessed correctly and the scars upon his body are testament enough.