What Do We Do With A Drunken Sailor?

He cracked the skull of another fish,this one smaller than the previous ones, but no matter. Afterwards he waded back into the water for yet another fishing attempt. Ears twitched as Brandr spoke, Thoren turned back to face him to find him with a second pelt,…this one with a brain in the middle of it. It made sense as he listened to the questions and explanation, his brow furrowed as he tried to recall which method Dutch had used. He watched as Brandr squished the brain and then rolled it over the hide, massaging it into the skin. “I don’t remember her using tree bark. It must have been brain.” He answered, although the inflection in his voice would tell Brandr he wasn’t certain. “I ask next time I see her.” He nodded, interested in finding out the answer- even if he never saw Brandr again.

He grimaced slightly at the mention of a lot of sun and then shook his head, ironically agreeing with Brandr on the stance. It was no place for him. The question, however, caught him off guard at first. Now it was his turn to chuckle. “I taller than most. Most in tunnels much smaller.” He lifted a paw to gesture to how small his sister was in comparison. Her shoulder came up just above the start of his chest. Much smaller. “Some smaller than sister. We call our kind dwarf in your tongue.” Thoren would be distracted, ending his explanation as he dived for another fish, hoping to get another big one this time.