"Broklion?" He repeated. "Is there...somethin' there ye think would be helpful?"
He gazed back at his ship, taking mental inventory for what they needed to stock up on for the journey.
Ulfden's brow raised in pleasant surprise. The underlying threat of anger seemed to disappear from his weary features.
"Aye....aye." he nodded. "Sounds a plan t'me. In the meanwhile, go' anywhere to be?"
He looked up at the moon.
A century of practice gave him the ability to resist with some ease. Just a twinge of discomfort.
He's...too old for this shite.
"Ah!"
He nods, brow still furrowed in confusion.
"As long as she's alri'...ye know we don't usually hang about wi'...people like ye. Forgive my wariness. Fer ye, since yer wi' her, I'll bring ye across wi' no price provided ye dunnae bring trouble. I've needed t' head ++
"Aye. . . Sound asleep on uncle Hjalmar. Like a big, furry chase lounge, he is."
The Queen smiled impishly up at her Captain.
"Fancy a walk? Dinner aboard The Banshee, maybe?"
"Ye always manage te catch me while I'm focused elsewhere!" she mewled, arms raising to wrap around his neck.
"I've got a keen ear fer th'babe, aye. . . His cry breaks away a piece of my heart each time."
A roar of laughter comes from him as he spins her.
"Lass, I cannae believe ye dunnae hear me!" He snorts. "After th' bairn, ye'd think yer ears were sharp as a fox's!"
She was just preparing herself emotionally, but she's glad to hear he's got some time to spare.
Maybe they ought to. . .Spend some time together.
Hjalmar is babysitting~.