he was suddenly very still, and swallowed. his grasp of common was something he could have kept secret were dagfinn around, a mystery to himself. now he found himself forced to admit that he knew more, and somehow, inexplicably, resented it.
i speak and hear well enough,the young drengr grunted in heavy accent, looking at sólúlfur with a tiny air of desperation.
men du og jeg, vi kan snakke sådan her sammen, ikke sandt?
torgar had no word for the hole opening in his chest. one day he would wake and know its name: loneliness. preserving himself only in their natal tongue had been the fiercest thing connecting him to dagfinn; now to survive, he must choose.
it hurt.
he was silent in resigned anticipation.




