Dawnlark Plains People Change

The drifter’s jeer made Njord laugh at himself, the woman’s good humor infectious. She took a step closer and the islander followed suit. He enjoyed being flattered, for a change. Back home, Aegir received all the praise while Njord, the little brother, had been sidelined. Was he – gasp –finally coming into his own? The mainland women were bold in a way he had never experienced before (Erzulie, Rosalyn, Valmúa, and now this one…).

Njord got close enough to take scent, careful to be polite and not make contact… although his attentive posture alluded to his boyish excitement. He realized, then, that this was a Sagtannet wolf. A wolf he was pointedly instructed to not interact with.

Oops…

Despite this epiphany, Njord was already under her feel-good spell.

“Aye, t’girls always try to plunder me booty, but I make sure to have ‘em give a good chase, first,” he joked, laying on the buccaneer accent thick for funny points, “Hav’ta make ‘em work for it.” He only paused for a few moments and then broke the act. IRL, Njord had zero swagger and empty pockets for pick up lines. “Nahhhh, unfortunately I’m jus’ a salty seabiscuit tryin’ ta get my sealegs in Teekon. The only girls be flockin’ ta me are ta gulls.”

She laid down and appeared eager to continue their conversation, but Njord hoped she wouldn’t run for the hills with his next line. His red arse dropped into a seated position. “I’m out scoutin’ ta see what’s become of our neighbors, Sagtannet, ‘an found you.” He cocked his head in cautious curiosity but followed up with a chuckle. “Can’t say I was advised ‘ta meet you, though… Not sure our capt’ns would be jolly ‘bout it.” his voice trailed, caught between the lines of diplomacy and self-interest. He liked this wolf and wanted to get to know her, but he hated that he was going against his leader’s instructions. “M’names Njord Sveijarn-Corten, what’s yours?” he asked, remembering to include his surname as Kaertok had.