"With my speechless calm eyes."
He still clearly remembered the frightened look in Djinni’s eyes, just as his own confusion when he learned that the voice of his friend only existed in his head. He had been around so long – Brynmor didn’t know any better than that his ‘friend’ was around – that it had become something that the gray man didn’t question. The voice was still around and the formerly blind man still hadn’t been able to stop the habit of talking back to him, yet Brynmor only did that when he knew that nobody was around. It was frustrating and irritating and he didn’t like it that he had to admit that Shaytan had been right all along, but he had gotten used to the idea. Next to that it was easy for him to put the blame on Gryffen, who had been the cause he had grown up like that. It was just another thing that added fuel to the fire that now burned in the graying male.
As he was still a newcomer to the Tundra he wasn’t known with the extension of Hurricane’s ways to keep track of the things that happened in his lands. All Brynmor knew was the threatening words Gryffen had spoken to him, using the blind man as his puppet and giving him no way of fighting back. Now he had gained sight Brynmor could. Sure he would need some training, but he was more than eager to work hard for it. He wanted to be able to contribute to the Tundra, in one way or another.
His gaze didn’t leave Hurricane’s anymore. He had spoken, he had told the truth, and all he could do was hope that the king would have mercy on him. The silence doesn’t give him the best feelings and ideas. Neither does Hurricane’s answer, but this question was always better than a direct attack. ”My loyalty lies with the Tundra.” He doesn’t say more than that, if the gray king would want a more specific answer he would have to ask for it, as Brynmor doesn’t know what to add. He wanted to stay and he wanted to fight for the Tundra, but he wouldn’t refuse to go on missionary missions if that would be asked of him.
His gaze follows Hurricane’s towards the caves. It’s like Brynmor had pictured them to be, but it’s actually the first time he takes in the sight. For a moment he’s struck by sudden confusion again, his mind conflicting and worrying over this miracle that had happened to him. It was like he was discovering the things he already knew. He knew it all, yet the sight of it was all so extremely unfamiliar to him. ”The Tundra is my home now and I would gladly face whatever might be in the caves once the time is there. I can’t say that I’m ready by then, but I’ll work hard in the meantime” he replies after a short while, his gaze moving back to look at Hurricane. He was genuinely driven to fight for the Tundra, to contribute to the Tundra, maybe not entirely for the right reasons, but his loyalty lied here and nowhere else. Hurricane had welcomed him where others had kicked him out and finally, finally Brynmor was able to do something to repay that kindness. However, his brooding revenge and anger towards the Chamber and Gryffen was something entirely else.
"Nothing is coming to rise."