His face felt sticky, fur wet. He couldn't tell if it was blood or whatever had been inside those glass containers, didn't matter really as he could barely feel it. Nothing but the burning of his legs as he ran, scaling the cliffside paths, his heart thudding so hard in his chest he felt like he might puke. And he very well might, cause head bonks were no joke.  He stumbled, losing his footing for a moment, but forced himself forwards, searching aimlessly without much of a destination in mind at all.

"Víðarr!" His voice echoed off the mountain sides, claws hooking into the loose stone.

The viking king had been on the far side of the mountain, working on fortification plans for one of the more travelled paths up the mountain. The logistics would be an undertaking, but the prowling at their borders hadn't gone unnoticed. There was something out there. Exactly what? Only the gods knew. Whatever it was, Víðarr wasn't a fan. It's Kuroki's voice that draws his attention. Víðarr's head snapped up, gaze going wide. Brow furrowed deeply for a moment... he sounded rattled. For a boy who appeared to take very little serious, it was an eerie sight. "Wait there." Víðarr gave the direction, loping up the mountain to meet the boy. His expression and tone hung somewhere between bewildered and worried-- it was a strange sight. He looked like he'd been on the losing end of... something. Fuck. Hoping Kuroki had managed to catch his breath by the time he grew close, the shadow found himself panting. "What is it?" "Víðarr"

Kuroki needed a moment to catch his breath, sides heaving as Víðarr approached. He wasn't even sure how to put it all into words, it felt like a blur. A car crash in slow motion, horrific and terrible but compelling enough that you couldn't help but look, even if you wished you didn't. He sucked in another lungful of air, that was one of his beefs with the Maw, the air was so thin here.

"Cel- they got her. I don't fuckin' know who. They'd been tailing her, I tried to stop them, but fuck me. They're just-" They fought like demons, with the same strength and brutality for a moment he'd wondered if it was Hattori beating the snot out of him. "I tried to follow their trail, but they covered their tracks. Used some sort of something to get rid of it." Oki wasn't very smart, not cunning or resourceful like these wolves clearly were.

Usually the bracing chill made Víðarr feel alive, but right now? Well shit, now it was just cold. The viking king rolled his shoulders back, trying to stretch. It's only when he processes Kuroki's words that he freezes. His eyes went wide, and then narrowed. A string of fowl words spat out across the Maw, louder than the shadowed viking has raised his voice in recent memory. Somewhere not far off, a flock of birds resting in a nearby tree rose as a cloud. Víðarr's anger isn't directed at Oki, no. At himself, for not having better control over the borders. At whoever had taken Celeste. Well, at least hurt and hate are a powerful motivator. "Which way?" His tone is heavy, words hanging on his lips as he speaks. This was a different sort of darkness taking hold now. He would find her. He would find her and he would bring her home, a single-minded determination taking hold. "Organize patrols, double them. No one goes alone." It's a solemn order, handed down clearly. The viking king was leaving Kuroki with a task. He was going to find his daughter, gods willing. "Víðarr"