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Bifrost didn't have any particular plans for the day. He had eaten at the kill the thralls had brought in for those unable or unwilling to hunt. After that he'd groomed and napped, keeping one ear open for juicy gossip. You could pick up all kinds of things around the shared kill, but today he heard nothing out of the ordinary. The strangest rumors about Ru's exile still circulated, but by now he was pretty sure he'd heard them all. He had even started one or two, just to see how long it would take to get back to him again. Always a fun pastime.

At the moment he was sprawled on a sun warmed rock, grooming lazily and exercising his voice when his mouth wasn't otherwise occupied. The endless humming and scale singing was enough to drive anyone batty, but he did it without thinking. A reaver had to spar and fight to stay fit, right? This was exactly the same thing, and if anyone had a problem with that they could go bugger a hedgehog.

"Hah! Hah! Hah!" he exclaimed, using his deep abdominal muscles to help the tone carry strong.

Bifrost turned to face the large lioness that had addressed him. He couldn't remember her face, and he could certainly not connect it to a name. That either meant that she was a newly joined outlander or that she was a thrall. And he did make a point to keep on top of the new arrivals. Thrall, he decided. She looked strong enough, but even strong lions could be captured. Perhaps she wasn't that smart. He considered making fun of her confusion and lack of knowledge of the arts, but messing with thralls wasn't really his thing. There was no sport in picking on the lowes of the low. And add to that the fact that he'd seen what thralls sometimes did to meals intended for the worst bullies of the pride.

"Oh, there's nothing wrong with me," he said, "I'm just warming up so I don't hurt myself."

Wow... He had managed to mess with this thrall without even trying today. Definitely a bit slow, this one. Bifrost was vain, and tended to assume that everyone knew who he was and what he did, but thralls couldn't be expected to keep up with everything freeborn did, so he had more patience with this female than he would have had with a reaver or another freeborn. She might even be a new thrall that hadn't heard about him yet.

"I'm a bard," he explained with a patient smile, "Name's Bifrost, you might have heard about me. I could ruin my voice if I don't warm up before I sing, and that would be a disaster."

A bard without a functioning voice was a sad sight indeed. Sure, he could still soak up the gossip and think up clever ways to tell the tales, but it just lost a dimension without the music. Sometimes he amused the other Stormborn with catchy poetry, but when he really wanted to make a point (or mock someone) he needed music.

Bifrost didn't care who adored him, as long as someone did. He puffed his chest out and basked in the attention. He was starting to change his mind about the large thrall. If she had the sense to be a fangirl she was surely worth his time. So what if she seemed a bit slow when she grasped the important things in life? He wasn't going to stick his nose in the air and refuse to entertain his audience just because it happened to be low in rank.

"Oh, it's harder than it looks," he said, and flashed his teeth in a winning grin, "Not everyone has what it takes. We must have just as good memory as any Lawspeaker and we have to be able to sing those stories, and make them funny."

Lawspeakers didn't have to be boring, and some of his father's colleagues had possessed a dry sort of humor that he had really appreciated as a cub. They had helped him realize that it was just as important how a story was told. It was possible to retell history accurately without boring an audience to death, but for the Lawspeakers it was a fine line to walk. They couldn't embellish as they pleased, and that was what had ultimately made him work to be accepted among the bards instead.

"My brother is a Lawspeaker," he said, "He inherited the position after our father. And he just doesn't get it... In fact, he's a bit of a stick in the mud. I had to work very hard to be accepted by the other bards so it wasn't as easy as inheriting a position."

Oh, he liked this girl! Not only did her ah... slow uptake... give him some excellent ideas for future performances. She also found him awesome. Awesome! Not everyone saw that. The large lioness had unknowingly stumbled on Bifrosts greatest weakness. Praise. He could go on and on about how good he was, and how little he cared about other Stormborn's attention but he couldn't resist honest adoration and flattery. And you could tell that this Thrall was honest, he kind of doubted she even knew how to spin a lie.

"Soo," he drawled, very pleased to have gained another fan, "What's your name thrall?"

His den had started to get rather messy, and he had meant to ask a thrall to clear out the scattered remains of his meals. Why not take this one? He could entertain her while she worked too, she would surely appreciate that!

Udongo pronounced his name with a bit of an accent, but some thralls came from far-away places and had little knowledge of the old language so it was to be expected. But it was close enough, and she was a polite thrall, so he didn't comment on her way of speaking. Bifrost was much ruder when it came to newly joined outlanders with funny accents. He figured that since they had won an askorun they should be thick skinned enough to stand some ridicule.

"Bifrost," he confirmed, and nodded his head in greeting, "Pleased to meet you Udongo. I need some help if you don't have other tasks to complete."

It was bad form to steal a thrall from under someone's nose, and while it usually only backfired on the thrall in question he liked to at least try to check that they weren't already on an errand for someone.

"I could use some help cleaning out my den," he continued, "And I could always amuse you with a tale or two while you work."

He almost made it sound as if he was asking her for a favour, when in reality she was the lucky one. He'd been accused of being too soft with thralls before, but Bifrost liked his approach. Some of his best sources of gossip were thralls, and he doubted that they'd keep coming to him if he beat them up regularly.

Whoa... Udongo sure could be chatty when she wanted too. Bifrost didn't really mind, especially since she obviously knew her place. Many of his best sources were thralls who enjoyed talking when they were allowed to.

"Good," Bifrost said, when Udongo had finished, "Then that's settled. There will be no need for beatings at the moment. Follow me, Udongo."

He rarely beat up thralls, but he had always been told that you shouldn't let a thrall feel too safe in her position. If you let them know you didn't want to hit them they could get uppity and try to take advantage of it. His father had rarely hit his thralls, but when the situation called for it he had no trouble disciplining them. Bifrost had watched and learned. His mother had been more inclined to randomly dish out punishment to the thralls, but they all respected Father more for some reason. Bifrost didn't own any thralls, but he tried to emulate his father's behaviour when dealing with them.