Moonspear some nights i feel like i have died

It was a massive communication failure all around— but neither knew this. Only that they had been wronged and had been hurt and the other was unwilling to budge. Kaylan hadn't meant to accuse his brother— not truly— only explain what had happened. That he hadn't left. That the storm took him. That he had been alone ever since and had not known how to get back. He was young and had been young. The entire ordeal left him completely unsocialized and yet he clung to the idea of family. Remained loyal to them even as the memory of them caused him pain.

But the tirade of words that fell upon him like blows told him everything he needed to know— this was not the brother he had lost. He had been looking for 'home' and for a brief moment thought he had stumbled upon it. But this would not be it. Charon was making it abundantly clear that Kaylan was not welcome here. Kaylan was proud. He was a thousand kings. He was flirting with death— but he would rather be invited into Valhalla over abandoning his pride and swearing oaths to a false king.

He pedaled backward once more as he fought back rage— any ounce of fear was now replaced with a haze of red. He would not attack his own brother. But neither would he bow to him. Words were difficult for the youth and he now struggled to form them. "Storm took me. I looked for you. Months on my own. Survived. Am here," Kaylan emphasized. He had found them. He had taken responsibility for his own life.

"Head is broken," this he admitted. It was painful to do so. "But could offer teeth. For food— for protection." Charon likely wouldn't care. But Kaylan wanted him to know what he was about to lose.

"Not now."

He had only stumbled upon his brother's kingdom. He wanted to speak to them and nothing more. And so he had. His dark eyes considered Freyja, brows furrowed. You are nice. He wanted to say. He bowed his head to her slightly instead and took another step back— putting space between he and Charon. Ready to run.