Blackfeather Woods revolution is a self taught language

i made some assumptions but tried to keep this as vague as i could! :-)

Kjalarr is not a beast made for staying still. He needs to do things, needs to move and keep active. He gets his exercise when he ventures out of Potema’s den with Potema but when he’s commanded to stay behind he is left feeling …trapped. He supposes that is the purpose of being a Captive. After all, being caged does come with the job description but when he’s not working for Potema he’s bored out of his skull and left without the option to explore. Yet, despite this, Kjalarr has no regret ( aside from leaving the first time ). He is thoroughly unapologetic for returning and surprisingly doesn’t mind being Potema’s captive. The humiliation is good for him: he’s gone for far too long being utterly and annoyingly arrogant and being knocked off his pedestal is doing wonders for putting the world into perspective. Yet, admitting there was a problem and that he’s made too many mistakes to possibly count and attempts to atone for them …well he likes to think that’s a step in the right direction as well.

Potema’s den is chilly without her despite that he keeps it warm enough on his own. Regardless, Kjalarr feels her absence from it keenly and lets out a low huff as he stares at the nearest wall, pausing to nibble a at his paw pad for a second to soothe a sudden itch. He can only sleep so much and he grows more and more restless as the seconds tick on. He spent plenty of time catching up on sleep during his first week or so in captivity and now that he doesn’t feel so exhausted all the time he’s driven to the opposite side of the spectrum: he wants to do things, he wants to be useful. He draws himself out of the den with a low huff and stretches the second he clears it’s mouth, taking time to enjoy the feeling. He will not go far but he needs to stretch his legs. He looks up at the caverns ceiling, noting the sharpened stalagmites and curve downward like sharp dragon teeth and the glow of worms upon the rock. It’s not exactly fresh air, per say but he does not stray overly far from Potema’s den and exiting Mephala’s Web unescorted or without Potema herself strikes him as a bad idea.

He peers over a broad shoulder to glimpse at the mark that Potema left on his hind leg, taking it in with his single good eye, focusing on the sensory input from the one that wasn’t partially blind. The skin is angry and red beneath the scabbing and Kjalarr knows he’ll bear the scar forever: Potema had not been gentle when she’d marked him. She’d cut him deep and had made sure that her mark upon him, her claim will not fade with time. It binds them together in this world …and perhaps the next Kjalarr considers. It itches suddenly and he looks away from it, stretching again, claws scraping against the stone to distract him from the itch knowing that if he ignores it, it will eventually fade.

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