[When Reynir says that she hadn't been that practical after all because she hadn't trained him, Onni just shrugs.]
Not necessarily. She needed a scout, someone to take over for her once she couldn't do the job anymore. I was scared a lot and gave in too easy to the voices of the Trolls when I was young, I wouldn't have made a good scout without a lot of work. Lalli is Immune, and you know how he is. He's good at it.
[For a moment, he's quiet, and then he glances up at Reynir again. The change of topic is making it a bit easier to tamp down the grief that still sits in him as he remembers that scene with Tuuri digging her fingers into his hair - he can almost feel it, a tactile sort of memory that makes his chest ache. At Reynir's comment that he turned out to be the most amazing mage he'd ever met despite his grandmother handing over his training, he makes a small scoffing noise.]
I'm decent. And it isn't like I was never trained after that. There were other mages in the village who were more than willing to take over my training. Hilja was one of them.
[It's brisk and matter-of-fact, and he moves on from it quickly, not wanting to deal with that along with what he's still feeling about Tuuri. The question about his mother catches him a little off-guard, and Reynir can probably tell that's so, he thinks, from the way his body goes slightly tense. Reynir is holding his hand still, he's leaning against him with his head on his shoulder and the contact is comforting, but also leaves him feeling very exposed because he knows how clearly the emotions translate through the bond with this kind of contact.]
Her name was Anne-Mari. My father was Juha, he and my uncle, Lalli's father Jukka, were identical twins. That's why people always think Lalli is my brother, I think.
no subject
Not necessarily. She needed a scout, someone to take over for her once she couldn't do the job anymore. I was scared a lot and gave in too easy to the voices of the Trolls when I was young, I wouldn't have made a good scout without a lot of work. Lalli is Immune, and you know how he is. He's good at it.
[For a moment, he's quiet, and then he glances up at Reynir again. The change of topic is making it a bit easier to tamp down the grief that still sits in him as he remembers that scene with Tuuri digging her fingers into his hair - he can almost feel it, a tactile sort of memory that makes his chest ache. At Reynir's comment that he turned out to be the most amazing mage he'd ever met despite his grandmother handing over his training, he makes a small scoffing noise.]
I'm decent. And it isn't like I was never trained after that. There were other mages in the village who were more than willing to take over my training. Hilja was one of them.
[It's brisk and matter-of-fact, and he moves on from it quickly, not wanting to deal with that along with what he's still feeling about Tuuri. The question about his mother catches him a little off-guard, and Reynir can probably tell that's so, he thinks, from the way his body goes slightly tense. Reynir is holding his hand still, he's leaning against him with his head on his shoulder and the contact is comforting, but also leaves him feeling very exposed because he knows how clearly the emotions translate through the bond with this kind of contact.]
Her name was Anne-Mari. My father was Juha, he and my uncle, Lalli's father Jukka, were identical twins. That's why people always think Lalli is my brother, I think.