Assembling them, bringing them together, pulling his family all into one place. Settling. Well and truly settling them right where they should be, and opening the gates to those like them. Víðarr was pleased with the numbers he'd raised, pleased with the group that had decided the harsh landscape would be their home too. Yes, the numbers were here, but it was time to be so much more. Time to do so much more. Víðarr needed to see what they were made of, needed to know what his warriors could do.

Moving out to the Steppe, assessing it-- yes, this would serve them well. It would be theirs too, soon enough. Víðarr found a flat enough piece of ground and a slab of stone to climb up, getting well enough settled. Behind him, the autumn sun hung high in the sky. A warm afternoon, and there was no telling how many of those they'd have left. The viking king tipped his head back, calling for his warriors. It was time to assess, it was time to learn. He would turn them into an army.

"Speech"

 

   

The stargazers had decided to settle among the vikings, and Cyanide found herself around the strange viking man once more. She didn't know what to think, she didn't know what to feel. Since the litters had been born, she'd been... well, she'd been feeling worse than usual. Some of the bitterness had ebbed away, but when that's what your whole personality is built around, what's left? Her sense of identity had been shaken, and she just... fuck if she knew.

Sure, the days were getting easier. Sure. It was hard to keep from being busy with the whole... pack, thing. The whole carving a pack into the mountain thing. Why had Víðarr chosen the least hospitable landscape possible? There had to be a method to his madness, but Cy didn't think about it too much. Truthfully, the wraith was still going through the motions. It's those motions that drag her out to meet his call. This time it's beyond the mountain itself, and into the Steppe. She wouldn't question it.

Wordlessly, the girl sits opposite the Konungr, offering little more than the dip of her dark muzzle. Watching. Waiting.
     
   

 

Lorikeet heard the call for warriors, for training. She lazily raised a dainty paw, glancing down at her sharpened claws. She could answer the call, or she could find a larger patch of sun and stretch out like a cat on some heated rock. Hmm… choices, choices.

Her muzzle twitched into a grin and he yawned, before rolling off the rock she was lying on, and landing on her paws. Much like a cat, in fact. Spice, after some grumbling, jumped from the rock onto her back.

In truth, while Lorikeet was no stranger to fighting, what she didn’t have was experience working as a team. Whatever trouble the vikings found themselves in, she would need to know how to work with them. And, besides, she could go along and tweak Vidarr’s lanky tail some more. She arrived second, and draped herself in an elegant seating position in front of him, and near a younger, purple eyed version. She didn’t say anything, just dropped her leader a lazy wink.


"Speech"