06-23-2019, 05:57 PM
Thorn Paw would be angry that he brought a new sister to this place, but as Tristan watched her sniff and explore the basalt column, his arms crossed content to wait for the hulking wolf’s condemnation to come. Meanwhile, he quietly witnessed Sierra’s exploration with great deal of amusement.
Arms crossed lightly, a sly smirk danced his lips upon her question. Something inside made him hope that his grandfather was tortured within his eternal prison, but he wasn’t sadistic. Prisons are a form of justice. Ulfar deserved his fate.
“Yes, grandfather, or so I thought. It seems he is my uncle instead.” He finally strolled forward, patting the smooth stone like a clap on the shoulder, though instead may have been his uncle’s belly. If it was, Úlfar wasn’t amused. The stone column twisted like it was trying to wiggle from his fingers. Of course the stone didn’t actually move. “In the Otherworld, he had a ferocious anger. We fought and he tried to choke me to death,” he turned toward Sierra seemingly unconcerned by the implication of attempted-murder by enraged family member. “Siggi, the dog, chased him out into the sunlight. He never went outside during the day.” His golden gaze swept the horizon. “Iceland is littered with basalt columns, the tombs of fossilized Trolls going back to the beginning. The oldest ones are long asleep, but we can smell their aroma. Úlfar here is quite feisty though.”
Arms crossed lightly, a sly smirk danced his lips upon her question. Something inside made him hope that his grandfather was tortured within his eternal prison, but he wasn’t sadistic. Prisons are a form of justice. Ulfar deserved his fate.
“Yes, grandfather, or so I thought. It seems he is my uncle instead.” He finally strolled forward, patting the smooth stone like a clap on the shoulder, though instead may have been his uncle’s belly. If it was, Úlfar wasn’t amused. The stone column twisted like it was trying to wiggle from his fingers. Of course the stone didn’t actually move. “In the Otherworld, he had a ferocious anger. We fought and he tried to choke me to death,” he turned toward Sierra seemingly unconcerned by the implication of attempted-murder by enraged family member. “Siggi, the dog, chased him out into the sunlight. He never went outside during the day.” His golden gaze swept the horizon. “Iceland is littered with basalt columns, the tombs of fossilized Trolls going back to the beginning. The oldest ones are long asleep, but we can smell their aroma. Úlfar here is quite feisty though.”