Raven's Watch you only understand the language of the sword

The command of his brother was noted and set to the side for a moment; While Stjornuati agreed that no information should be shared with the creature opposite them, he also knew that they did need information and he was willing to trade, to a certain point. Besides, names held no power over the pair, having many names wound around their souls. Such were the ways of the Stormskýli, and of their more established brethren, Tartok. Many names for the many facets of their beings.

The Stareater watches as the male drinks his fill, eyes the color of a wolf's innards strung from a tree watching with an intensity reserved for those he did not know or trust. The question was answered in an easy fashion, vague but not all at once. North. He paused, glancing to his brother for a moment before expounding upon the answer with a simple adjective. Far north.

Still, the fact that his question had been ignored ruffled his guardhairs and so he questioned again in response. Where do you seek? His journey must have had a purpose. Did he also answer to the hringja? Somehow, Stjornuati doubted this.