The female gave him a strange sounding name, stating that it was the only name by using the word 'just'. The need for a sire name had always eluded Týrr for as a Northman he hadn't really been able to claim one, and had never had one as an Amazon. His name 'Tezcacoatl', he remembered, had always spoken of his indisputable lineage in and of itself. After all, in Coatl's Rise only the royal women were blessed with the holy name of 'Coatl', such as his mother: Quetzalcoatl. The next rulers in line. He was the first male to ever bear the name and many viewed the name and him as a blight, as an insult to the Gods and their culture; though their Queen's word was nonnegotiable. It hardly mattered anymore what name he went by. He was no longer apart of them — at least not in the physical sense. Their hierarchy, it seemed, would be preserved for he would not be returning to claim his birthright. Instead, he desired to make his own way. Whether it happened benignly or with blood staining his paws. The Vikings might have changed him but so did the renewal of who he truly was. The cross of the two cultures: vicious, commanding and savage as they might have seemed created something all together new within him. A new breed of feral.
He followed neither but instead drew from what he took to be the best of both cultures, figuring that the Gods could war with themselves, may the victors carve their own path. Týrr was not so fanatical that he cared either way about Gods. He could not see them, could not touch nor feel them. Their existence to the Nýeldur was questionable at best but easily brushed aside in favor of “reality”.
Isqi,
Týrr murmured, repeating the name she gave him, to himself, committing it and her face to his memory (not that it was all that great, admittedly — potentially a side effect of the amnesia he suffered from). A few,
Týrr responded, though his destination had never been further than Duskfire Glacier because he hadn't ever needed to go further. There was nothing else for him. Is there something you need in the North?
Casually, the Rekkr inquired in attempts to keep their vague conversation with one another going.
a crime so old as the sky and bone