Dragoncrest Cliffs Out of Bounds

I’m gonna assume Njord knows Rosencrantz’s name for pack cohesiveness, but hasn’t really had much dialog with him

Njord waited to be ridiculed, laughed at, or dismissed entirely.  It was the only way his raptorial family knew how to operate. His Father and Aunt had bones of kindness in their bodies – but not his brother and certainly not his Grandfather. To them, failure was disappointing and repulsive trait only for losers. After one too many failures, Njord had just given up entirely on many things in life and had become aloof… though he felt this bothered Grandfather even more. It gave Njord satisfaction to get under his skin.

Teekon was supposed to be a mulligan… but being bested by Kigipigak siphoned up feelings of worthlessness all over again. Yet, despite the knight’s sharp appearance and curt intonation, he did not jeer. He simply stuck around to hear the seafarer out.

“Gosh, Rose… if only you could see ‘er,” he started, trying to level with the other man. “We met on the plains. ‘Er name’s Valmúa. A Northern woman, gorgeous coat of copper an’ ash with a blonde ruff. Most beaut’ful woman I’ve ever seen.” His non-swollen eye looked day-dreamy. “We flirted… she liked me ‘an I wanted t’ court ‘er. I showed up to ‘er borders…” Here the story got a little complicated and Njord sucked in a breath, expression darkening. “Another man, Kigipigak, showed up too. Me and him, we’d met b’fore. I thought we was mates. He looked at me like the devil, Rose.” Anger flashed across Njord’s Frankenstein face. “He said t’lady wasn’t goin’ anywhere. Well… t’lady didn’t like ‘im speakin’ for her one bit. I didn’t back down and… well…” Njord looked down to his shredded foreleg, dejected.

“I think I’m in love, Rose,” he said, still looking at his wound and thinking about all the crazy things love made you do.