He's crying, really full-blown crying, now, and Bylgja just holds on to him, because she knows what it's like to be scared and mad at the world and do stupid shit because of it. She doesn't judge him, doesn't look at him. She just... sits, and her tail swishes in the snow, and she can smell the blood and meat nearby, and there's the shrill whistle of mountain air.
"It's scary when things don't make sense." She says. It's not patronizing. It's just... true, as Strai tries to wipe his tears. "But... not every day is scary. You will be free, soon, if my word is taken." It might not be, and she knew that, but still -- she had joined, and she was a voice, and that mattered. "But even before then, I will help you. You will grow up strong, Strai, and you will grow up loved." She trails, for a second, before--
"I will ask for you to be given my name, when I speak for you. This way you will be my son. The Konungr may be more amicable to that-- it will mean you have a family name to carry honor for. And you will not be alone." Solemn. That same strength she had before. Her mind, set to the task. "I have not had a son, before." But he has had a mother.
"Bylgja"
