Moonspear somebody else’s lake

Love that!

Orca’s lanky and hackled teenage body reminded Njord of Loko. The half-siblings had the same fighting spirit about them. It made the man recall a time father and son had trained with Kigipigak. Njord hadn’t been born a naturally gifted wolf when it came to sparring (and he had the scars to prove it), so mentors were essential to his development as a protector.

Good job! Njord smiled and broke from his reverie.

He puffed out his chest dramatically. “No match fer yer Da,” he boasted. Then, he kissed his daughter on the forehead.

To hear his daughters adopt his family’s tongue brought a smile to the father. All of his children had learned the Gaelic words, to some extent, but Orca’s way with it was certainly the strongest by far. “A 'siubhal còmhla ri do mhàthair,” he responded with a wink. “Soon, ye will patrol as well, an’ its best I teach ye how tae defend yerself. Would ye like tae spar?” he asked.