Stavanger Bay afternoon rays

her tease brings a small curl of his lips — and a low snort. if we're talking about how i thought of myself: a warrior proper, a flick of his ear and a roguish grin tugs at the corner of his scarred lips. if we're speaking truth: i was a rogue boy with no regard. perhaps, not something anyone desired of someone who sought the crown of king: but he'd already admitted he came a long way. age and battles lost had drilled humility into the hellbound youth that had been kjalarr: whether he'd liked it or not.