Lynnedslag was getting quite tired of wandering around without a decent sense of direction.
Well no, that wasn’t true he had a sense of direction he just wasn’t applying it properly to the field. See, he had his own analogies about what exactly was right, and what exactly was wrong. He saw those who thought he was strange and weird as being jealous and thus trying to put him down in order to feel better about themselves. He thought all jackals had a suffix of their title species attached to their name.
He thought all lions had the potential to be good, and that some were just stubbornly ignoring this fact.
He also thought that by following a storm he’d somehow find himself at the stormborn pride itself. He had asked a many rogues about the whereabouts of the pride, and all directed him to the edge of the sea. For the past few months he had wandered instead nearest to the grassland centre, away from his destination if only in search of entertainment.
Finally though, he had to face the truth. Lynn had no idea about where the pride was other than the fact that it was somewhere along the edge of the ocean. He knew it was also near the pirate pride he had heard of, but Lynned had seen not sight nor smell of any pirates and their jolly laughing in drunken joy.
He hadn’t found or seen or gone anywhere near where the crusaders lived and he had found no evidence that a raiding party of troublesome Vikings had passed though. He was almost ready to give up his search for the pride and finally admit that he needed help with directions, when he finally found himself strolling along a beach.
He hummed merrily and did his usual banter of greeting plants and rocks and even a seagull as it hung lowly overhead. Here the tropical foliage thrived at the mercy of the sea as it lapped up white foam against the rocks of the beach. The sand was hot, but not overly so and the black paw pads of Lynnedslag’s feet cheered that he had arrived closest to his new home. The yellow lion shoved those thoughts away however as he remembered the olden tales of Vikings his mother told him.
“Terrible beasts, who lie in wait. They prey on the innocent, the weak, and the meek they say.” He hummed the beginning of some tune in song. “Stalking the brush, hiding in trees, you’ll never meet anyone quite like these!”
“How frightening.” A voice echoed from across the beach, and Lynned turned ever-so-unsuspectingly to face the stranger. Then, he took a step back.
Tordenskall had travelled long and far on the continuation of his raid. It had been many nights since his other two companions had returned to the pride, and him continuing the journey alone. It was not bravery that compelled him to do such, just curiosity in its piqued finest. He intended only to travel a few hours ahead, then make a u-turn and travel backwards to the heart of the pride. Only he had carried onward for a few more days of his own survival in the roguelands.
He wasn’t sure where he was now, but walking along the beach he found his footing on Skall was hesitant to react when the stranger showed up. It had to be a joke, a den of mermaids or something. A cave of mirrors, anything he would believe. But when the stranger started to sing Skall’s face faded from colour.
He was another being entirely. A being who was singing, a skill Skall never possessed. And he walked with a bounce in his step, a cheerful glee surrounding him- unlike the seasoned warrior which was Tordenskall.
And yet- here was a lion who looked to be his other half.
“How frightening.” The words escaped his lips as he curiously eyed the stranger before him.
Lynnedslag was having a similar reaction. His humming and whistling all came to an abrupt halt when he laid eyes on Skall. “Hey…” He paused. “This is- That’s…”
“We look alike.” Skall finished his sentence.
Lynned gulped, that wasn’t possible was it? A double him? Okay, okay, what exactly had he consumed over the past few days? The thought and ones similar to it crashed into his head like a wave. Overwhelmingly he struggled to coop with this idea that there was someone who looked just like him. A doppelganger.
“Father must have-“ Skall began but was interrupted by Lynnedslag as he randomly outbursted,
“ARE YOU MY TWIN?!”
“P-pardon?!” Skall took a step backwards. Clearly the other was not going to handle this calmly, running might be his only escape…
“I have a twin! Oh man, oh man, this is awesome!” He blurted, happily accepting Skall as his brother.
“Whoa there, I mean, slow down that’s not- Yes… Yes… It is ‘awesome’ as you say but-“
“I always felt like a part of me was missing! No wondered it was- hey, where are you going?!”
Skall turned tail and decided on leaving the area. He, unlike Lynnedslag was not ready to openly accept that he had a brother. A twin brother. No, not exactly their colours were of slight difference, but that was irrelevant at this moment of time.
Skall knew who his mother was, and she was no rogue. She was a stormborn by birth, by blood, and by culture. His father he knew was a similar being. He was a reaver, who was killed on a raid. Who was to say on one of those many other raids he went on that he had not somehow managed to woo a lady and conceive another child unexpectedly? Knowing his father, and Skall knew his father well, that was an entirely possible thing too, and that Skall could logically accept.
He just, hadn’t expected such a thing to find him.
“Hey!” Lynned called. “Wait up!” His voice was strained slightly on that last one. “I have so much to say and- hey! Do you know where the stormborn are bro?”
Skall paused. “What?!”
“The stormborn, you know because I’m trying to find them and all.”
“I know of them yes, and why is that you’re trying to find them?” Skall asked viciously. He didn’t intend to be vicious, but this- he had a half-brother! A half-brother trying to find his pride? The chances of such were slim! Did he know? He knew didn’t he, that he had a half-brother in the stormborn and that was why he was trying to find them!
“I want to join them. I might not look like it but I’m a pretty mean guy.”
He, Skall wasn’t going to listen to this at this particular moment in his life. With a sigh he turned to the forest and began to run away. He could still hear Lynnedslag calling him in the background.
“Hey! Bro! Wait up!”
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