"I will see."
It isn’t like Brynmor had a choice in this matter, although he had to make sure that it did look like he had one. He had been kicked out of the only home he had known, send away with a clear promise of punishment if he would fail. But when would he fail? Was that if he wasn’t able to find anything useful or did they think he failed if he wasn’t able to climb up the Tundra’s ranks? Honestly, Brynmor had started to not care about it all during his stay in the meadow. He would prove that he wasn’t a that much of a worthless puppet as he seemed, even though the voice in his mind often told him he was totally useless.
He snorts, a joyless grin pulling on his lips. He was used to hardness, his former home hadn’t been kind or welcoming to him either. Sure he was blind and sure the Tundra might offer different challenges, but it wasn’t like it would scare Brynmor off just like that. ”As long as you gain something in the end, hardness isn’t something I’m weary off” he replies. And yes, Brynmor wanted to gain, he would be happy to show his kidnapper and puppeteer that he no longer required his guidance. But until then Brynmor would have to keep pretending.
As he stays silent he shifts his weight, turning his body slightly, while he keeps his blank gaze in the same direction. Brynmor has one of his ears tipping forward, to catch any sound Hurricane would make. ”If the Tundra warriors are willing to welcome a blind and partly useless man among their ranks, I’d be happy to join you, Hurricane.” ’It isn’t like anybody else would you anyway. You’re good for nothing’ sounded it in his head, but Brynmor wasn’t even listening.
"Through your secret."