Qeya River outstretched arm, and upturned hand

wardruna shoulders the burden of his banishment alone. he does not speak of it often, and only speaks of it now because imrathil had asked ...and as disturbing as the knowledge may be to the northerner he does not desire to keep secrets from imrathil. that kind of trust frightens wardruna more than he'd care to admit. you miss it. imrathil speaks after wardruna finishes telling about jötunn spine. wardruna almost makes a noise of denial but he recognizes it's useless and catches it mid-way. the sound chokes off and is replaced by a quiet "já." of confirmation. there should be no homesickness for the place that had cast the brazen, young and overly ambitious commander out for failing to die.

"no. the old fight until death. just the crippled and cursed are not welcome." and it was insulting to be cast lower than the old and feeble. wardruna will never be the warrior he'd been before the hyphema ...before the gods took his vision in his left eye. but he can still fight. and if trepidation grasps him and the gods do not favor him in the fight he is wily enough to weasel his way out of it. knowledge was power, after all and he was ruthless enough to use it as a weapon. an ear flickers towards imrathil followed by his singular gaze as the scarred ankyrian mentions that they might find something similar in the teekon wilds and if they couldn't find it then they could make it themselves.

it is not a foreign idea to wardruna. he'd intended to create one with his wives but things had gone astray and slowly their numbers dwindled. he looks to imrathil with a soft furrow of his brow, contemplating before he looks back to the ice littered river, watching it with a thousand yard stare. "i worry." wardruna breaks his silence, feeling the words crawl up his throat like a prisoner who's just found the light at the end of his hand dug tunnel. "about you. ...and that you would not be welcome," feelings were messy. feelings were hard to speak, to put into words not meant for wardruna himself ( and even those were hard ). "i will not go where you are turned away." he admits firmly, his mind already made on the matter.

wardruna's ears swivel atop his skull and he shifts his weight. "maybe the only way to get it right is to make a place for us.." wardruna thinks aloud, looking then to imrathil to judge the other male's reaction.