"Feh, Ah am not a priest, boy. Rituals 're not me business, an' Ah will not pretend them t' be. If Ah need t' consult with a higher bein', Ah seek out a priestess. As it should be." My priestess, he did not add, tail lashing behind him as he gave Gunnar a stern look. For all the stranger seemed to be interested in offering advice, he had not done his research on the topic first. It was of little matter to the one-eyed dragon in truth – his own relationship with his deity was secure. A pious being, he worshiped Her in his own way, and when that was not enough, he followed his own advice. Seeking @Mahle had improved the strength of his faith in more ways than one, though that could hardly be said for current company.

Fixing the white wraith with a peeved look, he arched a single brow. Who did he think he was, that Kjors might reveal all of his inner machinations to him? Of course he didn't understand – he was not meant to. "Everyone," he grumbled, clearly exasperated. His triumph would be his ascension back to his rightful place. His was at the right hand of his divine priestess, and he would be the justice cast down by the Mother. "Wha' makes y'think ye'd here me plan, 'nyways? A wolf with 'ny hope of success does naw go tellin' his strategies t' 'veryone within earshot. Wouldn' be much success, after tha'," he snorted, wondering if he'd been incorrect when he'd thought this male clever. Perhaps he'd been mislead.

The male stood, rolling his shoulders idly as he studied Gunnar. While he certainly wasn't stupid, it seemed he still had things to learn. Perhaps he had never been trained to leave anything – that would explain a lot. "Ye've a lot of doubt, really. Why'd y'come t' this land, 'nyhow?"

A heavy sigh and narrow of a singular eye – so many questions, and ones he was not sure that Gunnar really wanted the answers to. Perhaps his desire was not the true question, but his ability to comprehend. It was clear he'd had religious experiences in the past, but not every faith was the same. Whatever deity this boy thought might exist, it clearly did not operate in the same terms that his Mother did. He'd not be swayed by one wolf's doubt.

"Ah will succeed," he replied firmly, ears rotating forward. "Not through gift a' th' Mother, but because Ah have th' ability to. Th' perseverance. If Ah do not believe in it meself, than who will? Ah've hobbled meself before Ah began. Y'do not know me, Gunnar Stone, an' do not thing Ah'm so faint a' heart th' words of a stranger will not dissuade me from me path."

Kids these days, huh? So used to their voices mattering, so eager to get on with everything they forgot others might be capable of patience. He'd suffered the follies of youth before, trying to lead his father's pack when barely of the age of majority himself. It was an utter disaster – his attempt to rise in pack order had done him poorly as well. Any look at his face indicated as much. With a sigh, he shook his head as he raised a single brow.

Cannibalism? That one was new.

"Yer a weird one. Ain't no demon spells now, though. Yer free. Up to you what t'do with yerself – be it waste yerself on foolish questions, 'er turn yerself towards purpose. Purpose will set you straight. Ah may not have accomplished all tha' Ah wish, but Ah am no one's man but me own, got it?"

Generous words were never about to erase the fact that he was in a state of mind of testing out the air. It was why his tail was swishing back from one side to the other, and the grumble that seemed to come rolling off his tongue was a clarity that was not going to be silenced. As he found himself unable to stop the pressures that was pinging about in his mind, making him aware that he was in a dangerous little spot of balance.

It was for that reason that he was almost cheeky with his grin, but he had no clue how to stop himself from taunting this wolf. It was such an easy thing to do, and yet his eyes were dancing with a madness that could not be quiet. Getting told off by the wolf was confusing, simply because there had not been a single word that Gunnar had spoken that had meant to seem... pushy. Quotes, lessons learning. His eyes twinkled, "Closed third eyes often block off the world." Laconic response was put at ease, and his eyes rolled toward the sky.

But then there was baiting words, and his head turned - eyes looked upon the other with a barely concealed curiosity. Purpose? What in the world was something like purpose doing creeping into his world again; although there was a loose note on his tongue, "Purpose is the illusion that makes paws go forward and the minds go backward." Chipper voice was not about to be squished, and that was why he managed to actually go quiet this time around.

Gunnar's attention had been caught, and the sudden silence was deafening to him. Not what he had expected, or particularly wanted, but he was content to know that someone was listening to his words and formulating thoughts about him. That was one step in the right direction, but it depended on what Kjors was thinking. What good would a cannibal be? It was a question that was left hanging.


"Vestibulum mattis varius interdum."

"No. Purpose drives a' wolf t' be bigger than himself. A wolf without purpose is a waste a' space. Do. Be. Change th' world around ya, 'er be changed." A wolf without purpose disgraced the Mother and spat in Her face, wasting the gift of life to make no impact in their time. It was not some divine purpose he sought (for he already had one), but a self-designed goal. Something achievable to carry him from one day to the next, to organize his thoughts and efforts, and make sure he never did fall back. How did Gunnar fail to see this?

Squinting his single eye, he huffed loudly through his nose not unlike a challenged bull. His head swung in a wide arch as he clicked his tongue softly. He was a child, worse than an uneducated child. "Purpose is th' truth y'assign t' yerself. Yers, an' no one else's. Whether 'er not y'refuse t' train yer mind is yer own doin', but Ah do not lack education." Ears flattened out to the sides, teeth flashed in only display, but he was not a wolf to be underestimated. Kjors had fought. Kjors had won. Purpose brought him forward into the future when memories and failure sought to hold him in the past.

Finally, he took a step forward, and another, until he and the white wolf stood shoulder to shoulder, his single eye offered to Gunnar as he drew in one more breath. "Ah don't fear you, cannibal," he whispered, tail flung high over his back. "Ye've been released a' demons not yer own. Now ye've got a choice. Y'can take back an' make somethin' out of yerself, 'er you can be th' memory of what they did. But be warned, the Mother doesn't avail those who chose not t' help themselves – y'were saved. It was naw accident tha' Ah met y'here. But now th' choice is yers. Come wi' me an' Ah can teach ya – or, take yer chances. Up t' you."

Paws seemed to be taking over the grounds with a steady confidence, eyes glittering with a hunger that was not about to be thwarted. This male was quick to edge, he was quick to be someone who was going to be valued in ways that could not be understood. As his head seemed to tilt, Kjors became a wolf who was going on a bit of a tirade, a bit of a doubtful way to manage things. As he bent, stretching, the fever seemed to sweep him up with eagerness.

The assumptions were interesting ones,and they were ones that assumed that he should have been speaking in another tongue. As his head bounced lightly, he found himself actually going quiet, absorbing the nobility in which the other wolf spoke in. Gunnar's eyes were not about to dull though, for the wolf had declared that he was indeed seemingly fearless of anything and everything. It was not meaning that Gunnar would be looking to pick it apart, but he was certainly riveted on the idea.

As tail swished from one side to the other, the pleasureless meaning was one. Him or nothing, was it? His eyes seemed to be dancing, and he growled in his throat without any heat behind it. Nothing stirred him in particular, but there was a waiting bait. "The search for someone to suck you dry seems a bit, chaotic doesn't it?" The question seemed to come dripping off his tongue, but he did not expect an answer.

Dipping his head lazily, and there was no missing the sullen look that seemed to twist her features politely; "Saved... you speak on words a tad to huskily for my brain to grasp." As his consideration seemed to be plodding through his mind, his grin was faint. "I am still like a babe in the womb; my mind is ever expanding, and taking a chance is something I'm willing to grasp."


"Vestibulum mattis varius interdum."

"Ah don't abide by chaos," Kjors replied dryly – he might not follow any laws but his own, but he followed those to the very letter.  Ears rolled as he studied the other wolf, wondering if he'd meant the comment a bit more literally.  He had, after all, admitted to being a cannibal only moments ago.  What he had meant was still up for debate, but it was very possible a wolf used another for sacrifice.  There was a witch doctor involved, and if his own previous experience with witches taught him anything, it was not to doubt what Gunnar actually meant.  In truth, he really wasn't interested in knowing.

"But y'understand this, at least.  A chance t' take, a point t' start, somethin' t' learn.  Where y'go from there, well, that's up t' you," the dragon drawled, studying the white wolf for several more moments before nodding over his shoulder.  It was time for him to return to Hearthwood River and his princess – the thought alone was enough to send his tail twitching.  This conversation had been interesting, yes, but also trying, and Kjors felt he'd had his fill of dealing with other wolves for the day.  He'd show the wraith where to find him, and then take his leave, settle down in his own den and block out the rest of the world for hours.

With a satisfied sigh, he nodded again, turning on his heal.  "Ah'll show ya th' place.  If y'show up again, than Ah'll know you wanna learn," he drawled, tail swishing before he turned and began the trek back to his home.

Exit.