Frostfire Ridge Lands that call my name

Gunnar once Tveir briefly though of his father Ragnar, the burly man with a different moral compass than most. He had been savage, and wild, but he had loved his mother so, had loved Tveir so even though he wasn't even  his.

Gunnar was surprised at the youth, as they moved closer, though he didn't mind. It was nice to share his own space for a time. The question again caught him off guard and he allowed his tongue to gently loll as he thought of an answer. 

"Now, I'm an old body with a young soul, a man that can speak two languages and has his feet in two ways. I am a son of the sea. What about you? What are you, right at this moment in time, and I won't accept nothing."