He was admittedly happy that the talk of his fallen kin did not linger, for it forced an aching pit in the center of his chest, a longing for his brother and his sister who had been sent to Valhalla far too soon. He knew that this life was what the gods had planned for him and he knew it would do little good to dwell on the past, no matter how much it pained him. They had to only look forward, though he knew they could never forget those they had lost in the journey.
"There is no if," he corrected his cousin swiftly, his words serious though not without a faint grin that shone into his voice. "I will be following you. As for a rank, whatever suits me," he began nonchalantly. True leadership did not suit him; he was insightful enough to know that, though in the field of battle he was fearless and without abandon. "Though as a master of battle, I would be happy to command." Only if she thought him worthy. His style of fighting was more flighty, spontaneous, and not always calculated but he knew he could control himself if he was given the task of commanding a group, for the greater good.
WARNING: Kaprasíus is extremely prone to violence, including maim fights & character claiming.
Katja is also welcome in any and all of his threads, without warning.
He also has a bush viper companion named Jǫrmungandr.
