Cerulean Cape In an upside down world, floating in a pineapple

@Kjalarr I'm not entirely sure when this is dated so kinda vague. Also pping her bird, Tula, since she hasn't been approved quite yet

As time passed and the sun grew higher, beating down on the tangled, sandy mass of her merle coat, the heat persisted and the drifter found her footsteps leading her along the coast. The small prints left behind her, a trail of the path she'd taken, were washed away by the pass of the sea's tongue - not unlike the way Elin had groomed the dirt from her coat as a child. The wind brought cool breezes off the water and a spray now and again that brushed her coat, lifting her salty matted mane like the playful caress of a lover. Tula glided overhead, chirping her happiness and her newfound lordship over anything that resided on the beach. 

Kai merely snorted, pearl eyes glancing up at her companion as she shook her head with mock admonishment; Tula tended to believe that anything she liked automatically belonged to her. As the naiad found the soft, white grains of the Cape she looked out at the distant forest, her cracked eyes searching for signs of life. 

Chi-keee!

The call drew Kai's attention and the sandy wolfdog turned her dove-capped head to find Tula hovering over a nearby tidepool - flitting about with her sharp beak pointed straight down to peer at the creatures residing within. The girl loped over on fire-streaked legs and let out a sudden bark! Within the pool flitted tiny, colorful fish that darted amongst the natural coral colonies and seaweed strands. Anemones and starfish found homes upon the mossy rocks at the bottom where some small crustaceans scuttled about, feeding on the fuzzy rocks with their pincers. Along the sides of tidepools, the rock formation-like groupings of mussels could be seen. 

Tula darted into the water, plunging with a sudden plunk, emerging moments later with a small blue fish clutched in her spear-like beak. Her familiar took up a perch on a large craggy boulder, gave the fish a sudden slam to knock it senseless and then gulped it down headfirst. Kai tsked at her softly, receiving only a sharp trill! in return. Dipping her dye-stained muzzle into the waters, the girl plucked a small crab from the bottom, throwing it out of the water before its wandering pincer found her sensitive ear. Rushing over to the flailing crab, the wolfdog swatted it so that the crab flew into the boulder where it lay dazed and confused. Tula stabbed at it with her sharp bill with sudden viciousness, so excited by the prospect of crab that she abandoned her perch to help, but the finishing blow was wrought by Kai's own hand as she took a rock in her mouth and dropped it on the crab. Using her paw to crush the rock down, a sharp cracking was heard and in moments the pair was feasting on raw crab meat - a delicacy if there ever was one.

Tula perched on Kai's patchy shoulder as the wolfdog sprawled sphinx-like in sight of the sea, her claws caught in the girl's sandy dreads, content to eat the morsels she could snag between Kai's own bites. Lazily, the dryad would rumble at the fisher, twisting to snap her teeth at the bird, only for Tula to fly up in time to narrowly avoid the sea witch's fangs. As if it were a game, the bird would dart in to steal food - only for Kai to shoo her off half-heartedly; the fisher would dart away with a cheerful chirp only to return moments later for another taste. 

sorry about the wait on this!

eventually, as kjalarr always does, he makes his way to the coast. he naturally gravitates towards it. the warborn was born on the coast. he ruled the coast. or more specifically, one territory along the coast. the coast is his family's dynasty. still, he avoids territories with overbearing familiarity. he knows the cape well, but it is not directly connected with him and he harbors no qualms of trekking there. he seeks to find comfort in the sea though it has never offered him anything but grief. it is the sea that pulled him to further danger when he attempted to escape a bear as a pup, it is the sea that spit him out upon the sound where he would one day return. where he would one day rule. it had been the sea that had taken whittier's life. and the sea that had taken caiaphas' ...or so he'd thought. they'd been close once until one of his idiot sons had came in-between them. kjalarr is left to wonder if arrille betrayed her as he had drageda. kjalarr wonders if, in the end, arrille had been worth spurning him, he who would never betray her. neither is a concern to him now. he regrets how their reunion has gone but kjalarr will not apologize for the contempt he feels for the sons that have came from his seed.

his agitation grows as he thinks about them and he turns thoughts from them. just in time. he becomes aware, as he weaves around the pools that the high tide has left in it's wake that he is not alone on the beach. ahead is another. her scent not entirely wolf. but not coywolf. no. wolfdog. he does not think he has yet been spotted and for a long moment kjalarr considers slipping away before he is. but he does not. instead, he lets out a loud chuff, meant to be carried and heard over the distance between them and the gentle roar of the crashing waves nearby.

She's not alone with her crab meat and the waves for long. 

Tula notices before she does, and a sharp peck is what gets Kai's attentions. The sea wolf raises her paint-smeared face, the colors faded and washed out over her merle coat from the salty sea. She cracks half a grin at the stranger, seemingly unnerved by the mountainous male's presence. The wolfdog set aside her crab in favor of drinking him in, really drinking him in. 

He was ginormous! Bigger than giants! His coat was as white as the puffy clouds that could be seen overhanging her cove and a sandy color swept up his powerful legs. He chuffed to her but the girl merely grinned with amusement. "My, you're a sight for sore eyes, the gods have truly blessed these lands," she sighed with happiness, glancing to the crashing waves with prospects of how prosperous these lands could be danced in her eerie gaze.

The fact that he was not a sexy pirate come to ravage her, as all her best fantasies went, nor a hunk sent by her gods to drool over was unimportant. She sat, accepting this with a blink of her 'cracked' eye to let him know she was teasing. "I'm Kai. That's Tula," her chin jerked up to point at the wary bird where she perched.

she's alerted to the strange wolf as she soars upwards, escaping kai's jaws with a twisty maneuver that had her chicking softly with what might have been laughter. his white coat did not stand out well against the sand but his movement does. tula rocketed downwards, pecking her companion sharply before flitting away to her stony perch to watch.

if the bird could have rolled her eyes at kai's jokes, she'd have mastered such a valuable skill long ago. alas, she was a mere bird with mere birdly talents. instead, when she was introduced she puffed out her chest and a rather haughty rattle of importance.

the female speaks to him, breaking the silence his chuff left in it's wake. kjalarr studies her from afar, content not to close any of the distance between them. she calls him a sight for sore eyes and claims that the gods have blessed this land. for a moment, kjalarr is not sure whether she is being sincere, jesting or outright mocking him. he'd been handsome once. before war touched him and left it's marks upon his body. this doesn't bother him. each was proof that he survived. each carve into his flesh only proved to the allfather that he deserved to join his father and daughters in valhalla. one day. kjalarr offers no comment, taking her first words spoken to him with a grain of salt regardless of their meaning. she introduces herself and her avian companion — his gaze flickers momentarily to the bird before it flickers back to the wolfdog who called herself kai. "kjalarr." the northman offers her shortly after she wraps up her introductions. it is a simple introduction, minus his father's legacy and minus his own. the addition of Skrælingjar would come when he's built something substantial that is deserving of his legacy.

Unperturbed by the blank stare she received and the one word answer, the merle wolfdog merely squinted a ghostly eye at him and nodded as if truly considering the name. "Suits you," she comments, crimson brushed muzzle dipping into another morsel of crab meat. It was probably rude to eat it in front of him and not offer any but washing up on beaches is hard work, man. She can practically feel Tula's greedy eyes on the back of her head and she sniggers at the thought of the bird, too shy to come down in Kjalarr's company, without letting him know why she's laughing.

After she's swallowed the bite, she turns spooky eyes on him again. "You're not a talkative man. But I take it you've seen more than most men," the girl quips, tossing the crab shell away. A lopsided grin crossed her features as Tula dove for it, tapping at it in search of any lingering pieces of meat.

kjalarr is silent and still, save for the utterance of his name, and he's so stationary compare to kai's usual frenzy of energy that the bird soon forgets he's there. she preens, ignoring the conversation until she notices that kai dares to eat without her!

beady eyes bore into the patchy wolfdog, watching avidly until finally she tosses aside the crab's shell. tula flits to it on rapid wings, picking the clinging bits of crab free with her sharp beak.

suits you. the woman — kai he reminds himself — claims. kjalarr was not the name he'd been given at birth but jorunn had died so very, very long ago. kill the boy and let the man come alive. 'kjalarr' was one of the allfather's numerous names and the scarred northman is not unaware of it's meaning. the nourisher. it sounds like such a joke to him now. he is not a nourisher. not by nature. not even close. átli suits him much better but 'kjalarr' is the name that those in these wilds know him by. "you are the only one who thinks so." he comments wryly with a smirk tugging ever so slightly at the edges of his lips. it amuses him even though he doesn't agree with her.

she spares a moment to take another beat of her meal. kjalarr is not perturbed or offended that she does not offer it. he wouldn't offer any to her, were the tables reversed. besides, there is barely any meat on crabs anyway. it would be better to catch his own even if he did want any. in general, he prefers more substantial meat. meat that does not bear the salty taste of the sea's water. her observation hits the proverbial nail on the head and kjalarr lets out a small, amused snort of confirmation. "seen a lot of things. survived a lot of things. done a lot of things that most haven't." done a lot of things that most would likely bulk at. killing his own daughters without giving them a chance to see if they'd live. turning to cannibalism to survive a famine. turning against his adopted older brother and by extension what was the rest of his family. usurping a pack simply because he wanted it. the list was endless and would no doubt grow with each passing year.

despite his verbal confirmation kjalarr is aware that it was likely redundant and that he hadn't needed to confirm anything. she'd already guessed correctly and the scars upon his body are testament enough.

"Seems like it anyways," Kai snorts, turning gleaming eyes at him. "Sorta rugged sounding, a name for a "don't mess with me" sorta guy. And you definitely look like a "don't mess with me" sorta guy," the wolfdog eyes him over once again, lingering on the scars that he seems to think detract from his looks - they don't, she decides - before glancing away impishly.

It's clear she doesn't mean harm but the dryad's young and silly - she's full of life where the salty man only two years her senior is stoic and still. "I doubt I'd get a story out of you even if I asked with a pretty please," she teases, finding her pale feet. "You don't seem like the type to share stories but I've been wrong about everything else."

She wanders some steps towards the surf, calling a sharp noise over her shoulder for Tula. "I haven't got an ounce of Seer's blood in me Kjalarr, but it's a fun game while it lasts." Kai was never very good at guessing the facts about people, despite her continued efforts.

the bird flirted to kai's shoulder, clinging to the sandy dreads there with sharp little talons. her beady eyes found kjalarr as kai moved to the sea, taking him in with a curious cock of her head. growing bored of the pallid male, the fisher turned her face back to the surf. 

the sea air smelt of brine as it blew in, causing the young bird to close her eyes joyfully - ruffling her steel feathers in the breeze.

kjalarr allows a smirk to ghost across his lips as she explains why she thinks his name suits him. yet, he knows it only sounds rugged because it is a name from his father's native tongue. in the end, though, kjalarr does not press further. he does not argue. likely, there's no use. so, instead, he makes an inquisitive hum in the back of his throat but makes no further verbal remarks about his name or her assessment. she appears willing enough to change the subject. she mentions a story and his ears slick back to rest at half mast atop his skull, canting his scarred muzzle up ever so slightly. the northmen were known for their bragging tendencies but kjalarr was not the type of man to weave tall tales about giants to detract from the truth. he was no hero. he was the monster. his stories were something out of a nightmare; the choices he's made devoid of the 'standard' moral compass are hellish. he is a beast of survival; a cat to a canary. he is not afraid to make the hard decisions and not afraid to live with them afterwards. "they are all hellish stories." he deadpans in warning ...but it was not necessarily a 'no'. if she insists he will pick one, perhaps one that is of the lesser evil in his growing collection and he will tell it to her.

"seer?" he inquires, picking up on that word with an acute sharpness. he is familiar with the term, of course. it'd been foretold that he had seer blood, once upon a time, when he was just a boy and there had been distinct rings of silver around his pupils, cracking through carribean blue. now, of course, only one eye functions ( and looks ) as it was originally intended to. the other, iridescent and frosty sees only writhing shadows and never evaporating fog. it has felt like lifetimes since he's heard the gods or even felt them. seeing them seems even more unlikely than the previous two. "how do you know you don't?" kjalarr counters after a moment and a bird-like cant of his head. "have you ever tried to hear the gods?" kjalarr isn't sure if her gods are the same as his own; or if she has any gods at all. he associates the term 'seer' with his own culture, his own religion even though he realizes he could be dead wrong. still, the prospect of coming across a northerner in the wilds that isn't related to him ( and thus by principle doesn't immediately hate him ) is ...hopeful.

When his words reach her, her miscolored ears twitched - the only sign she'd heard. Something dark flickered in the girl's eerie gaze, despite the fact that the northman couldn't see it, and she found herself responding without meaning to. "Aren't all stories?" She doesn't expect answer, and likely wouldn't get one even if she did.

"Aye, seer." Kai can sense his intrigue with the word and figures it must mean something to him; whether it means the same thing to Kai is unclear. 

"I have tried to hear the gods my entire life," she glanced back at him, something wild glinting in her eyes in the place of her usual casualty. 

"They curse me," she whispers, likely too soft for Kjalarr to catch over the sound of the waves. "Alas, they offer little guidance. The one god who has always answered lays before me," her gaze was turned to the sea, not to his face - she would not see if he was disappointed or pleased with her answer. 

she's not quite sure what to make of all this talk of stories and gods and seers - it's something beyond the little fisher - and she soon grows bored of the conversation. tula preened herself, tucking her head under a wing to get at a particularly askew feather.

"not all of them." kjalarr is quick to muse in refute to her response. no, kjalarr doesn't believe that everyone's sagas are as sad, and hellish as his own. not to say that there aren't wolves out there that have worse tales to tell ...though it is in kjalarr's own mind, admittedly, hard to top cannibalism and the slaughter of your own offspring ( and the further desire to kill even those that have made it to adulthood ). "they can't all be horror stories." the grin he gives her could be considered charming, possibly, if he didn't look like a beast out of said horror stories himself. "there is the stories of the two bears and how both times i was almost killed, the story of the famine and my turn to cannibalism, how my brother died by the sea and i had to belay the news to my family, the story of how i slaughtered my newborn daughters, the fight to the death for the rank of jarl simply because i wanted it, my imprisonment to a witch." he moves then, ever so slightly, showing the shadowbrand he bears. "take your pick." kjalarr is sure there is more than he missed ...and admittedly, not all the tales he has to tell are necessarily bad but the world has made him a monster and there is no sense in trying to hide it when his outside finally portrays the inside.

he is not like other men because he isn't other men. he is survival-at-all-costs, take-what-he-wants kind of man. there is no moral compass to guide him anymore. it was broken and cast to the sea a very long time ago. perhaps he is truly a northman. regardless, if there'd ever been any doubt, he is definitely and indisputably ragnar's son.

the conversation slides to the seers, a topic that kjalarr is happy to focus upon. "how do they curse you?" perhaps it's none of his business but he finds the fact that she believes herself to be cursed to be interesting ...even if they do not speak of the same gods. "they hardly ever do. their favor is a fickle thing. you could have it one moment and the next they take everything from you." in kjalarr's mind, it's not speaking ill of his gods if it is the truth. he knows well the cruelty of the gods, but he has learned that he will adapt and that, eventually, he will overcome. he bears their curses because he knows he can handle them. "they are cruel but they are gods." kjalarr says simply, as if being a god gives them a right to be merciless. maybe it does but that's more of his opinion than it is anything else.

"Then you truly have my sympathy, Kjalarr. The gods have tested you more than once and their tests come with a great price," Kai murmured, seemingly unphased save for the sad gleam in her gaze when she looks at him. "Where the gods are involved - they are all stories worthy of hell."

She senses his eagerness to move on and she jumps at the chance. "To be thrown over a cliff moments after birth, presumably for some aspect of you that was unwanted," she grimaces rather than smiling, as she intended. She has seen her reflection and knows the multitude of oddities that led to her being so cast off. "To be raised by a creature who was not even your own kind, only to lose her anyways. To lose them all. To be forced into the sea or face a future of uncertainty."

"Is that not a curse?" She was cursed - to lose everything and everyone. 

"Perhaps. But what if they are no longer mine?"

she listened, for once silent, as the wolves spoke and could offer little more than her comfort to the wolfdog. she took up grooming kai, preening through her fur gently with hopes to soothe her sad friend.