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The outlander freeborn was very strange and Galning had a hard time believing she had won any sort of askorun. She was entirely too complacent and eerily peaceful. She didn't belong here. But she had made a good impression on Yolla, and that made her not so bad in his eyes.

He was this very minute wearing a creation that had been inspired by her, although it was not one of her creations. Apparently Yolla had spent several days watching her work and had then gone off to gather materials of his own and constructed a gift for his father.

Galning was still trying to determine whether this gift was some sort of passive-aggressive means of getting back at him for taking Yolla away from his mother. It was a distinct possibility. Even so, he wore the hat, if not proudly, at least publicly, and even on sentry duty. Especially on sentry duty. It might be lost or destroyed fighting an askorun!

Waiting for his relief to come, Voldemaras had found himself a nice shady place with a mostly unobstructed view of the two main approaches this sentry point was supposed to be watching. It wasn't ideal, but it was sufficient and it had the added bonus of making him more or less invisible because he was almost underneath a very large rock.

It was a poor place for an ambush, unfortunately, unless the ambuscade was launched by cubs. No one else would have enough room for running and leaping beneath Vol's cover. But it was still adequate cover and shady besides, and in this weather that made it sort of ideal. And it was still good for startling people, Vol thought with childish glee.

And there came his replacement! Perhaps he could play a trick on..."Stormlords' balls! Have you been cursed? What is that monstrosity on your head?"

The hat really was quite awful by daylight, he had to admit. Fortunately, it was on his head, and so aside from the discomfort of the added weight of an entire zebra head resting on his, he wasn't much bothered by it. After all, he didn't have to look at it. He couldn't.

Even so, that didn't mean he was going to placidly accept insults from everyone who had eyes and a hint of taste. His son had made it for him. That made it...special.

"I assume you speak from ignorance," he said as coldly as possible while turning in place to figure out who, exactly, had spoken and seeing no one. "Or else you would never say that."

"Do you know what you look like?" Vol asked. "I think maybe you're the one speaking from ignorance, because you look like some vengeful got has replaced your proper head with a zebra's head."

It had to be the stupidest-looking thing Vol had ever seen. And...were those flowers sticking out of the zebra's nostrils? He hadn't noticed those before, having been to distracted by the general awfulness of the decoration. Now that he had seen it he could not contain his laughter, which echoed from beneath his concealing rock.

"And it makes you look like a complete a**." Though if that was Galning underneath the zebra head, as he suspected it was, then it was only fair warning for him to look like an a**.

Still unable to figure out to whom he was speaking or where they were hiding, Galning bristled and one eye began to twitch.

"I notice you only voice these opinions from a hidden location," he said. "I think you must be too much of a flower-blooded coward to make these claims to my face."

That should, at least, draw out the lion who was insulting him. Presumably this was the lion whose watch he was supposed to be relieving, but Galning wasn't feeling too inclined to allow him that respite. Except he was trying to improve and be a better Stormborn and thereby a better father and example for his son. His son who had made him this...hat.

Vol knew better than to allow himself to be drawn out of hiding by such a childish insult, but the fact was that his shift was over and obviously this moron was his relief, so he would have to emerge at some point or else stay for another shift, which he had no intention of doing. It was lunchtime. When he was at home and not viking, Vol hated to miss meals.

It was hunger, therefore, and not the idiot's taunts, that drove him out of his concealment. To do so Vol took a way which would not make it obvious where he'd been before, so that he would seem to have simply appeared on top of the rock which had previously been sheltering him from the sun. Not as satisfying as trick-playing, perhaps, but more expeditious.

"Very well, I say it to your face. You look like an idiot and nothing you tell me about that thing on your head will convince me otherwise."

Galning looked up, following the sound of the voice until he saw that he was staring up at Voldemaras. Well. Not a coward then. Galning was sort of wishing he could take that part back now. Dammit.

"Sorry, Voldemaras," he said, remembering all too clearly the words the reaver had for him at Ru's sending-off. It seemed like it was a long time ago, but Galning could not forget them. "I didn't mean to call you a coward. It's just...my son made me this. I'm wearing it because I don't want him to think I don't like it."

Except he didn't like it. He liked the thought behind it. They were two different things. He would be delighted if something awful befell it someday. He hoped that Voldemaras would understand this, even though he had no cubs himself. At least not as far as Galning knew.

Vol squinted down at Galning. He wasn't going to be any fun at all, it seemed. He was suddenly all deference and apologies. Not really very reaver-like, but perhaps he was one of those unfortunates who could remember the things he did while drunk and thus remembered the things Vol had said to him at Ru's sending-off.

"Your son should not pursue a career as a crafter, I think," Vol said shortly. If Galning was going to be apologetic, it wasn't going to be much fun to tease him or insult him.

"Anyway, you seem to be my relief and it's time for me to go to lunch," the older reaver said with a luxurious stretch. In truth, Vol was more bored by Galning than anything else, but he couldn't resist the urge to torment him just a little bit. The younger lion was such an idiot, but he took himself so very seriously. It was really astounding.

As he hopped down from the rock he offered Galning a piece of advice: "If you're really going to wear that thing around, you should come up with a better reason than 'my son made it.' It will not make either of you look good."

"Yeah...I don't think crafting is really his thing. I'm hoping that he will decide to follow in my paw prints and become a reaver. Only the becoming a reaver part, really."

Galning cleared his throat with some embarrassment and said, "Ahm, yes. I'd actually intended to tell you, before I realized that you were, well, you, that this is a magic anti-hangover hat. And it looks like this because it scares away the spirits that cause hangovers."

That much was actually the truth. It was such a ridiculous, bald-faced lie that Galning figured he would either be believed or they would assume the hat had a secret purpose which he was not revealing because they weren't meant to know it. Which demonstrated a surprising amount of thought on the young reaver's part.

"Anyway. I'm sorry to have...kept you from your...lunch." That was a very strange thing for a reaver to care about, Galning thought, but all right. "Don't die in bed!"

"Not bloody likely," Voldemaras said before trundling off.

As was his habit, his parting statement was ambiguous and could have been applied to almost anything that his conversation partner had just said. He liked to leave people wondering. Also he felt (correctly) that it made him seem more intelligent than he actually was. Not that he was unintelligent, but he preferred to think of himself as cunning. Intelligence was for noncombatants. Cunning was a warrior's trait.

And now...lunch!