Hallbjorn did not chide her for her phrasing in light of what they learned. Or what they were led to conclude by the proto-valkyrie. There had been a time when Hallbjorn believed every word from the lips of the valkyrie and was in awe of them all as Wóden and Freya's beloved daughters. But now . . . there were too many instances of them Hallbjorn a 'noob' or describing his actions as 'weak, punk-ass busta shit.' The rose was well off of the bloom.<br/><br/>He did not want to tell Kara how he thought her father fared. The most likely thing was that her father was dead, or in a state where death would be a sweet release. If he lived and simply believed that mortal parents were the better providers and caregivers, then he was the type of man who would have appeared at the first sign of danger. Hallbjorn knew that if he had a daughter, he would safeguard her even if he were not able to be part of her life.<br/><br/>Then Kara was looking him in the eyes. She kissed his cheek and he had to close his eyes to hide the tempest that rose within them. He opened them again, just as she was telling him that he was not lame at all, and they were blue. It took all of the control that he had marshaled over centuries to keep them that way. She grabbed her bag and mused that they would have to watch television together and the idea seemed very pleasant to Hallbjorn. But they were both of like mind that now was not the time. She went into the bathroom to prepare for the evening, and Hallbjorn lay back on the bed.<br/><br/>His eyes were closed and his arms were at his side when she emerged.The man had taken the time to hide his big knife under his pillow. He heard her whisper with his immortally sharp hearing. "Goodnight, Kara." He answered in kind.<br/><br/>When Hallbjorn slept it was like the sleep of the dead. He did not dream. The toll of his injuries and invoking the berserker rage robbed him of dreams that night. There was only black unawareness.<br/><br/>That is, until Kara's nightmares had her call out his name. Then he jerked up sharply, reaching for the hidden blade. It was in his hands as he surveyed the room quickly for the danger that had alarmed Kara, that he should have detected. The room was very cold. His breaths misted with it. But Hallbjorn saw no dangers, only the young woman thrashing in her sleep. He dropped the blade and it fell to the bed, bouncing a few times before it settled.<br/><br/>The large man's brows knit together, and he placed a large, warm hand on Kara's brow, smoothing her hair and stroking her skin. "Shhh, female. I am here." The blond male said, kneeling beside her bed. He woken with such urgency that his motions had opened a few of the man's cuts, and they bled afresh. The pain of them did not bother him; he did not even notice them because he wanted to soothe the terror that Kara was experiencing. It was of such concern to him that he did not question why the room was so cold when he could not directly perceive why.<br/><br/>"Be calm, female. You are safe." The man told her in a soothing tone. His hair fell forward as he leaned over her to touch her neck, and the big hand continued to stroke her head and hair.