Torbjörn was deep in thought as he wandered around the edge of the living area. He was far enough from the living area to avoid bumping into people, and far enough from the cliffs to avoid falling to his death if he didn't pay attention. It was easier to think when his paws moved, he had found. His lips moved too, first reciting some of the laws and then naming the members of a complicated bloodline. He stopped walking and talking as he hit a snag in the bloodline. Torbjörn frowned as he tried to remember the name of Ulf the Hairy's mother. He'd have to ask a fellow Lawspeaker later. It wouldn't do if he committed the wrong name to memory. History wasn't meant to change. He couldn't just do what the bards did and make things up if their memory failed.He sighed and shook his head to try to get his mane out of his eyes. The wind had changed and now came from behind, pushing a considerable amount of mane into his face.
Ah, you couldn't change the winds... The Lawspeaker turned into the wind instead, and started chanting another bloodline. He wondered who would remember his bloodline when he was gone. At this rate there wouldn't be any children to carry on the family tradition. His brother would rather goof around spreading thinly disguised slander than honor their parents. And Torbjörn... Torbjörn tried. He really, really did.
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