Lake Rodney One fish, two fish...

Luhtar stared at Galen, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, as the golden wolf emerged from the water, fish flailing in his jaws. For a moment, Luhtar was frozen in disbelief. Then his face twisted in exaggerated, playful fury.

Þú svindlaðir! Þetta er ómögulegt! he barked, stomping toward the shore, his thick voice loud with mock indignation. He appeared sullen, butthurt that he had been bested by the muscular oaf he called friend. Enginn grípur fisk svona! Þetta er... galdra! he accused, gesturing wildly at the fish, his tail lashing behind him.

Finally reaching the shore, he let out a dramatic huff, his wet fur clinging to him as he stopped a few paces from Galen. Luhtar’s words came slower, more deliberate as he worked through them. “Fine. You… win. Fish is yours.” His yellow eyes narrowed slightly, though the flicker of humor in them betrayed his begrudging amusement.

Settling down, Luhtar cast a glance at the fish pinned beneath Galen’s paw before looking up at him. “You… meet Sólhárr,” he said, his voice soft as he regarded the great golden wolf. “He is strong leader. Fair. You would…” He paused, searching for the right words, his brow furrowing before continuing, “fit here. With us.” His gaze lingered, steady but unassuming, as if the suggestion was something natural, not forced. “Think about it.”

mentions @Solharr