Týrr did not try to hide his small, perhaps even bemused, smile to accompany the soft 'churr' of a laugh he gave when Tuwawi looked to him with her jaws slightly agap in what he imagined to be surprise. He took this as a good sign, for she did not give off anything he could see in body language aside from astonishment. It made him a little sad to come to the realization that given her astonishment she did not think he would return to her or the Glacier but nevertheless, he was simply pleased that she was not angry with him. The important thing was that for better or for worse, he was back and he had no intentions of departing the Glacier again. It was where he belonged. He stood still and contented himself with watching her as she approached him, closing the distance between them without hesitation, through slightly lowered eyes. She might not have held it against him, but that did not cease the small swell of guilt that he had left in the first place — twice. The first time, though, it had been in search of Njal and her missing children, determined to bring them back to her; but he had came up empty pawed, having not been able to put down any of the wretched creatures responsible for the gaping hole in her family; and when Týrr had returned Tuwawi herself had been gone. Driven by the realization that he did not know who he was, nor who he was supposed to be as the truth warred with the falsities he had been fed by the Vikings of Odinn's Cove and the overwhelming crush as the memories tried to break free of the amnesiac acid that had stricken them from him with near entirety.
Things were not perfect. He remembered some names and faint echoes, weak cries and nothing more. Nothing solid and nothing that felt real despite that Týrr knew that they were. He still felt broken but time had begun to mend him, and given plenty of it, it would heal fully in time, of this he was certain.
Searching for what I had lost,
True enough for both absences despite that it was a horrendously vague response. For a moment, he dithered on whether he wished to divulge with her, even in a small measure, on whether his past was important. He might never remember anything more than the ghostly echoes, and he had accepted that the only path was forward. I came to learn that I suffered a severe injury probably about a year or so ago now, and that it caused me to forget ...everything. The wolves I had loved before, where I had truly came from, my mother,
Týrr had decided to share, not because he thought she might care, but simply because he wanted her to know that he trusted her. He trusted Tuwawi without any trepidation and he would always have her back even if there would never be anything more between them than this ...this royal/subject relationship. His loyalty was not something that could be swayed or bought, which was likely the bane of Manauia's existence, causing a small smirk to play but never materialize at the edges of his lips as the thought occurred to him. I don't remember much and while everything has changed I came back because the Glacier is where I belong. It is my home.
And it was where, more than anything in the world, he wanted to be.
Týrr held still while she sniffed at him, reaching out to offer her a nudge, gentle as it was laced with a slight hesitation, trepidation at how the gesture would be received, if it would be unwelcome or welcomed, whilst also wanting to express his joy at seeing her again without using words because Týrr wasn't a poet and didn't want to risk saying the wrong thing or messing up anything; and perhaps to prove to himself that she was not an illusion, that she was physically there; though if she was a figment of his imagination she would not have been wearing the strange item around her neck that she wore now. Nevertheless he spoke, It is good to see you as well, my dróttning,
. At one time Tuwawi had not thought of herself as a Queen, but he would always see her as such, even if she no longer held the official title. He would always knowledge her as such because the Glacier was rightfully her kingdom and may the odds be in the favor of anyone who dared to tell him differently. How are you?
Týrr asked her softly, allowing her to open up to him if she wished to, or to dismiss it all together. Enamored by her as he was, he would not be insulted if she chose the latter of the two. Still, he was always willing to listen.
a crime so old as the sky and bone