Gyrfalcon's Keep the rules have changed

their numbers are small, and his children nearly outnumber the adults; this he can tell from the fading scents upon the borders and from the lack of dwellers within the keep. noticed now, since he's briefly ventured out of the keep, bringing back whale bone for the children to chew. an oversight made before simply because his children had held his attention captive since their birth.

he is not a leader and perhaps it is not his concern but as the husband of the queen, he takes the burden of lack of bodies and the coming months on his shoulders all the same.

to say he is not concerned would be a boldfaced lie.

so, he seeks @Solveig, because he cannot live on the whims of 'i'll cross that bridge when i get there' anymore. the reality that hljóðrfell might not be able to sustain itself or the children was bleak, but a reality that he does not dare turn a blind eye too.

fatherhood has changed him. it lingers in his priorities above all else, tied now with dutiful husband.

when he finds his wife, he greets her with a low, smoky purring croon, drawing alongside her to place a lingering kiss upon her cheek, followed by an affectionate nip; a loving segue into the bleak topic he brings up without preamble:

do we have a plan, if hljóðrfell would fall? surely, he could've broached it a bit more ... sensitive than that but he's never been a man to mince words and he doesn't plan to start now.