Maja claimed not to 'get' parties, which Sverke considered for a moment with a thoughtful frown. He couldn't imagine one finding nothing at all appealing about Skjoldrheim's parties - there was always food to eat, drink to take the edge off, and gullible mainland wolves to cajole before ditching when he got inevitably bored or distracted. If she really didn't find any of that pleasant, there was the rest of the pack dancing and singing and chatting idly; rituals to partake in, gods to appease.
Spoken like a true hermit.He joked, somewhat aware his remark was more than a little mean-spirited but not quite sure how else to respond. He wasn't in the habit of offering empathy, or olive branches.
The prince tilted his head slightly as she returned the conversation to Asgeir's absence.
Perhaps, I hadn't seen him around for a minute so I thought he might've left.Sverke looked slightly put out, then, glancing at the shadows that surrounded them as if he expected them to spit out the golden boy momentarily.
He doesn't get tired.He remarked idly, as if this was well-known fact. Sverke knew this, remembered his own paws carrying him in an endless chase without blister or break. Their hunt was tireless, he remembered, he remembered, he remembered.
Sverke glanced back to Maja, clear-eyed and alert once more.
I mean...maybe.
