There was promise in the air on this brisk spring day, and Víðarr could feel it. The sort of promise that put the air in his lungs and the wind in his sails. Everything was new and bold, and he was (quite genuinely) feeling good. With long, confident steps, the man strode through the pines. These trees were young– barely older than he was. There was something absolutely beautiful about the way the sunlight filtered through them, and the shadowed man couldn’t help but appreciate it. Appreciate it all. The gods had presented him with a most gorgeous day, and Víðarr wasn’t about to waste it. Carefully raising his head skyward, the shadowed man was searching for one scent, and one alone. Breakfast. There were tracks and other evidence that elk were nearby but just… where? Waiting one heartbeat, and then two, the stiff breeze picked up again. Ah. With careful, quiet steps, the man began tracking south of his current position. Certainly, they were over this way. VÍÐARR Ragnarök awaits.

Iðunn sat back on her haunches beneath a cluster of pine trees, eyes closed as she placed a front paw upon the bleeding rabbit corpse offering that lay on the ground on a bed of small stones, her head tilted back to speak upwards to the heavens. "Hail Ullr, wise and powerful hunter of Asgard. Give me strength to take down the beast, grant me your wisdom, weave for me good luck, let me be successful in providing food for my family. Hail to you, Ullr, watcher of the hunt." As she spoke, her words soft yet full a deep reverence, she used her paw to smear the rabbit's blood along her cheeks and on her forehead, allowing it to drip down her face. When she finished she opened her eyes, looking up through the sparse canopy of the pine trees, up at the spring sky above, and let out a soft croon of a howl to finish off her prayer, quiet enough so as to not spook the elk herd somewhere nearby. She had searched for a quiet spot in which to pray away from any prying eyes, not wanting to be disturbed as she prepared herself for the hunt. The elk herd was a fortuitous opportunity, and she didn't want to waste it by being ill-prepared, or having her prayer ritual disturbed. Iðunn sat there silently for a few moments, soaking in the moment of the rush she felt from completing it, and then scented the air. The wind brought with it the musky scent of the herd, but also a familiar smell that spurred her forth at a gentle trot. If Víðarr was about, then with the gift of luck and strength for Ullr, and the added strength of her cousin, she was sure they could be successful in bringing down an Elk to feed their group well.

Slender legs propelled the woman forward in a ground covering stride, her head canted ever so slightly to the side, ears turning this way and that to better mind her surroundings, nose tasting the breeze, the familiar scent of prey filling the ear and her mouth with saliva. She spotted her brother and cousin ahead, teeth flashing in what might have been a smile, perhaps a sneer as she aimed to roughly bump against her brothers shoulder, a snap aimed at the air by his ear with a warm rumble from deep in her chest before she would turn to offer the same to her cousin. She was less dignified in her steps, far more eager, and a coyote like croon left her lips, punctuated with several short yips, almost a hyena laugh. Time to get a move on. Between the three of them, the elk hardly stood a chance.

“Speech”

lightning struck and I found my thunder

Four. Between the four of them. Sanngriðr fell in easily with her family, watching her brother carefully as he took in the scent on the wind. As he took in the world around. Yes, she would trust in it for now. She would follow... and they would move together. Truly, the elk didn't stand a chance. The beasts were here, and they would eat well. The last piece of the puzzle, if they were to take on something so large, Sanngriðr fit easily into place. Eye contact with her brother-- yes. Still, she shoots a glare at Róta as she yips. "Shh," it was a sharp sound, lip raising to show her teeth for a spare moment. Gods forbid her younger sister scared the elk away because she didn't know how to shut up. The valkyrie let Víðarr start them off, watched for any sign or signal. Careful. Always careful... she needed to remind herself not to hold her breath. Her steps were swift, killer grace as they moved. Four of them, yet after all this time, they knew how to move as one. All was right in the world, and Sanngriðr felt alive. Ever so alive. SANNGRIÐR Kom och hata mig.

Iðunn's prayers brought him comfort. It was one of a dozen reasons that he was glad she'd come with them. From the trees around him, his family seemed to melt in turn. Ah. Yes, together they'd be able to take down the larger prey with ease. Víðarr's head was high, posture confident. "Jävla--" he grumbled as Róta struck his shoulder. The words were deep, brassy, and lacked venom. Víðarr's mood was relatively good, reaching up to halfheartedly swat in his sister's direction with his paw. As the breeze picked up once more, Víðarr glanced knowingly at his family. There was no hesitation as he took off at a dead run through the pines, adrenaline coursing through his system as he led the hunt forward. Brilliant gaze, strong legs, high head. It was northward, towards the scent, that he'd take them. Keen gaze searching, tracking-- there. An elderly elk cow, back sloping with the weight of her years. Víðarr sped up, cutting wide from the creature, putting himself in position to cut it off should it get spooked and try to take off. They would eat well tonight. VÍÐARR Ragnarök awaits.

As if part of a hive mind, more of the Trygg family appeared as if out of nowhere to form a hunting party. Róta was first and just as fiery as always, snapping playfully around her ear with a rough shove to her shoulder. She stepped along with the movement so as to not stumble from the force of it, and gave her cousin a sharp side eye, punctuated by a quick snap of her own jaws as if to say knock it off. Sanngriðr was not far behind, and with her came the seriousness and protective aura she just seemed to give off at any moment in time, as well as a swift scolding for the youngest of them to be quieter. If they weren't careful the elk would spook, and they'd be left having to catch the smaller prey to fill their bellies. As the group moved forward as one, Iðunn slowed her pace just enough to bring up the rear, keen eyes watching over the three as well as on the lookout for any signs of the elk herd. She wasn't much of a fighter, and would leave her heavier cousins to take charge on bringing down the creature. With her long legs and lighter frame she was more useful in cutting off escape routes and driving the prey towards their waiting jaws. As Víðarr suddenly took off at a near sprint, she spurred herself forward, feeling the slowly drying blood from her prayer rush back against her temples with the wind, and licked her lips as a drop made its way into her mouth. The taste brought a quick grin to her lips, and she dutifully followed closely behind the group as they made their way northward until finally the elk herd was in sight. Víðarr took off to the side to stop it from breaking free and making a mad dash to escape, and with a low growl to the other two to signal her intent Iðunn circled the other way, her long legs making quick work of the distance. She'd lay in wait with snapping jaws if it tried to run past her, and would scare it towards the others so they could have a good chance at grabbing it and bringing it down.

Party poopers, the lot of them.

Róta rolled her eyes at her sisters call for quiet. There was no fun in sneaking, filling the air with the scent of fear was more than half the fun of a hunt, but her brother’s word bought a smile that showed too many teeth to her face. If that was how they wanted to play it, well, she was really hungry, and the scent of the blood smeared on Iðunn's face wasn’t doing much to lower the way her blood moved to thunder through her veins. It was obviously difficult for the youngest to measure her strides to move with the pack. Short and squat, she was best suited to grabbing and holding. An anchor to hold while the others would move in to save whatever they were chasing a drawn out death.

Once the others were in position, she aimed for the back of the elk, planning to sink her teeth into the old cows thick thigh. If she couldn’t hold it still, at least she should be able to open a bleeding wound to help slow it down.

“Speech”

lightning struck and I found my thunder

Four pieces, one puzzle. They fit together seamlessly, and Sanngriðr was pleased. If she needed to be the token wet blanket, she would. It was important that they didn't lose their dinner, and the valkyrie would put her foot down. An enforcer, that was fine. Sanngriðr's heartrate picked up as they took off, excitement coursing through her body. A thrill. A thrill down her spine, and something even more wonderful. More savage. More brilliant. Yes. They closed in on the cow, and Sanngriðr was ever so pleased. Her brother pushed it towards them, and the valkyrie moved in time with her younger sister to take the beast. With reckless abandon she threw herself into the fray, slamming into the elk's hind legs with gnashing teeth. The creature cried out, and Sanngriðr held tight. She could hope that, with Róta's help, they'd be able to slow it... slow it, hold it still as they brought it down. Still, the old cow struggled, and the valkyrie found herself fighting to keep her grip. For as old as the thing appeared to be, it wouldn't go down without a fight. SANNGRIÐR Kom och hata mig.

The elk caught Víðarr, be it through the shifting winds or out of the corner of her eye. No matter. He herded the beast in the direction of his family, letting go a feral laugh. Ah yes, this was the feeling. This was the feeling that the shadow had missed so dearly. All four in time, they'd be able to take it on. They'd be able to take anything on. He wasn't as fast as any of the women around him, but he was stronger... stronger. Sheer force of will alone would have been enough, but something else came alive within him in these moments. With Róta and Sanngriðr both upon it, the shadow was able to close in. With all the force that he could muster, Víðarr slammed into the cow's side. He'd knock it off balance, priming it to fall away from his family. With a great ripping and tearing of his jaws, the shadow would do his best to bring swift end to the creature. Swift end to honor the gods, to honor the prey. They wouldn't take her in vain. No, they would bring swift death, death with honor. As the shadow made contact, she staggered. From her run to a walk, struggling beneath the weight of the predators upon her. Víðarr took her by the throat, teeth sinking into the soft flesh. Yes. VÍÐARR Ragnarök awaits.

Róta was the first to make contact, grabbing one of the old cow's meaty thighs and holding on for dear life. Sanngriðr was next, latching onto the other hind leg, and together they were able to slow down the creature enough to stop her from bolting away. She kept her own distance, keeping up alongside the cow as she struggled forward under the combined weight of the two wolves, keen eyes looking for the best time for her to join in. Víðarr made sudden contact with the cow's side, making an audible thud as he slammed into her, knocking her off balance, and that was all the opening she needed. With a deft speed she saved for moments like these, Iðunn was the final piece of the puzzle as she leaped into the air to come crashing down squarely upon the cow's back, feeling the front legs buckle underneath the weight of all four wolves, and losing strength swiftly as Víðarr grabbed her tightly around the throat. She grabbed onto the cow's nape, wrenching her head to the side to make sure the creature fell to the side and not on top of her cousins, and only when the cow stumbled and fully fell would she let go, springing away to land safely on the ground. The other three would be more than enough to sufficiently prevent the cow from getting up again, especially with the killing grip Víðarr had taken.

Even on the ground, the cow was still a formidable beast. Róta had been unwilling to loosed her hold despite feeling the animal tip and tumble, and she earned herself a sharp hoof in the shoulder for her efforts, the hard toe tearing her fur and adding her own blood to the scent that was filling the air. She didn’t contain the yelp that came with the contact, these things were to be expected in circumstances like this, and a feast this large would keep them going for a few days. It would leave her enough time to heal for the next one.

With vengeance on her mind, she got back to her feet and limped forward, bit down hard on the cows flailing leg, ripping flesh with an aim to further bleed her out while her brother was clamped down solidly on her neck. Blood coated her face and front, and wept from the open wound in her shoulder, but this was what she lived for.

“Speech”

lightning struck and I found my thunder

Alive. Alive. Sanngriðr was so immensely and incredibly alive as she felt the blood flow from the prey. She could feel it as it spilled down her neck, down her front... breathless. The topping of the cow, was her brother stupid? The valkyrie flinched as she heard the yelp from her younger sister, gaze flickering to her. Okay, she was okay. Róta was tough, but she still bled the same. Sanngriðr's heart pounded in her chest, and she was fierce. Incredibly fierce. The elk kicked out, and the valkyrie's jaw ached. Still, the creature struggled. Around her, her family had gathered around the cow. Iðunn connected with the prey animal as well. Beneath all four wolves, the cow didn't stand a chance. Sanngriðr was in her element. Incredible... absolutely incredible as they worked together. Family. All she could rely on, truly rely on, was family. They would hunt together and they would eat together. Covered in blood, panting, they bore down on the elk. Sanngriðr let go a savage sound. Absolutely excellent. SANNGRIÐR Kom och hata mig.

All four of them upon the cow, it was too much. She'd tried valiantly to hold them off, but there were four of them and one of her. She crumbled beneath the weight, but didn't give up... didn't give up until she had to. Víðarr growled deep in his throat as he felt one of the cow's hooves make contact with his back legs, sweeping them out from under his body. Shit that hurt. He collapsed into the elk's chest, teeth ripping into the throat. Snarling, growling, and ripping as he ripped through the creature. Víðarr was bathed in blood from the prey animal, heart pounding, panting. The shadow staggered backwards after a moment, unsure if the cow was truly dead yet. He trusted his family with the rest. He limped for a moment. Víðarr shifted his weight, attempting to chase away the liquid pain as it bloomed through his knee. Gods, it hurt, and his heart pounded. It would hurt more when the adrenaline wore off, but they had secured a good dinner. That was what mattered. VÍÐARR Ragnarök awaits.

At some point Róta had gotten injured, but it didn't hamper her ability or fiery spirit to still continue going for the old cow, ripping further into the flesh of its hind leg. She watched as the three tore into the herbivore only moving in closer once its movements stilled long enough that she was sure it was dead. Her muzzle found its way to her face, snuffling around its face to check for and signs of life, and when she found none she let out a soft bark to alert the others. "Well done." It was only then she noticed Víðarr's limp, and she spared a glance at the last of her three cousins to check her over, but at least one of them hadn't finished the hunt injured. Her day could be a lot worse, now it was only marginally less so. She tssked loudly at him and Róta to make sure they were aware of her disappointment, letting a frown emerge onto her face. Hunts were dangerous and it wasn't always possible to leave unscathed, but they were too far away for only her and Sanngriðr to drag the elk carcass back to their camp at a reasonable pace, and she was not about to let the two of them injure themselves further by assisting. Perhaps it would be best for them to eat their fill and leave whatever remained behind for the birds and other predators to feast upon. "When we get back to camp you'll both allow me to look over you," Iðunn said in a firm tone, leaving no room for any disagreement. She would not allow them to walk around injured unless their wounds were light enough to not be a cause for concern. They couldn't afford to have one of them unable to hunt or fight predators, as they were few in numbers and in a foreign place.