Boartusk Heights Barn owl

Qvasir remained silent as the exchange unfolded before him, though his molten gaze shifted thoughtfully between the siblings. The sharpness of their words, the tension brewing beneath their poised facades—it all spoke to dynamics he was no stranger to. The politics of bloodlines often mirrored those of battlefields; alliances, rivalries, and the silent wars fought in glances and calculated remarks.

The towering wolf allowed his expression to remain composed, a fortress against whatever storm might brew next. When Agrippina spoke, cutting through the exchange with an elegant assertion, he dipped his head in quiet approval of her boldness.

Qvasir saw the tone that Agrippina had taken— testing the young heir. He'd wish she'd tread carefully. Though, he had pledged himself to the crown, but it was not his place to be drawn into the skirmishes of its heirs. Still, his posture was resolute, signaling his readiness to follow whatever command came next.