Victorious off of their raid, the viking king returns to his wife in the Oaks. They would be camping for a little bit. The camping, the kids, the donkeys. He'd need to do more... responsible things while he was here. His conversation with the Tojo-kai alpha hadn't been far from his mind, but how could it be? Still, there would be time for that discussion later. For now, his first litter was coming up on their first birthday. He hadn't come empty handed, but that would again, be later. For now, he's setting about tidying up camp.

Pups made so much fucking mess-- who knew? Víðarr certainly didn't remember this much mess, this much commotion, when he'd last been around so many children. Without his wife to remind him of his selective memory, the viking king is content to sigh heavily and grumble incredulously, as dads often do. It's true, in this moment, the shadow is just a dad. He's just a dad trying to not look like he doesn't have control over his kids as he picks up the toys, adds scraps and refuse to the cheerfully burning fire, and tidies up the area that his family had taken as their campsite.

For as long as Tenshi and her friends from Tojo-kai were happy to keep the children entertained, Víðarr would at least make use of the quiet.
"Víðarr"

Akito doesn't find himself terribly interested in meeting another round of pups. They aren't technically related to him because as far as his mother insisted, Raijin was his father, but Vidarr had and still was there for him more than Raijin could ever imagine or even hope. So instead of going when all the little heathens were awake, he waited. Loitering around the oaks, patrolling the borders as if he had something to do, until night fell and the moon could be seen through the canopy. Once the day had finally gone to sleep, he made his way to the camp. Hattori had mentioned to him the location so it wouldn't be hard to find. Plus the scent of many more wolves than normal was easy to follow.

When he emerges from the shadows to stand in the flickering light of the fire, he watches Vidarr silently. Whether Vidarr notices or not doesn't bother Akito. He doesn't mind waiting. Patience was his true virtue and he could stand as still as a statue for however long was needed. It's not until Vidarr is nearly done picking up the area that Akito clears his throat and comes to sit beside the fire. "Vidarr, seems you've been busy," he comments, a slightly raised brow and gentle nod of his head to the scattered toys and pelts.

"speech"

As the boy watches, waits, Víðarr subtly changes his movements. No longer is he just tidying up, he's also preparing something. Putting away the children's toys, pulling out a bottle of honey mead. Stronger than the light dandelion stuff the children drank during festivals, this had a little more bite. No, this was what men drank at dinner, somewhere between a mead and a cider. Rota had a taste for the stuff, and it always seemed to be flowing among the vikings. The last of the scraps of some... what even was that initially? That the kids had gotten ahold of. Víðarr wasn't sure he wanted to know, and he added it to the cheerfully crackling fire as well. Cups set up.

A warm smile to Akito as the boy joins him. "You too." Warmth hangs in his tone, pouring a cup and pushing it toward the yearling. If asked, Akito was as much his son as any of the others. Warmth in his gaze as he puts the last of the toys in one of the baskets, the pelts could be hung out in the sun tomorrow. Finally sitting beside the boy to take a long drink from his own cup, looking into the fire. "You have grown." Fondness in his tone.

"How are you?" The question is exactly as loaded as it needs to be. Sipping his mead, settling in comfortably. He cares, but he understands his position too.

"Víðarr"

Akito sits, his tail curling around his legs as he stares into the fire. He doesn't watch Vidarr so much as just simply notices the viking. There is a sense of care and fatherly devotion to the man's movements that nearly has Akito feeling jealous. But the man is not actually his father so he cannot resent Vidarr. Instead, he respects Vidarr and all he does because the man doesn't have to try and include him.

Watching as Vidarr pours a cup full of mead, Akito doesn't hesitate to drink from it. As he sputters, he also laughs and lets his head shake lightly. "This size looks good on me, no?" Akito responds, a smirk lighting his lips. A show of emotion that he saves for only his closest circle. While he had come here to ask Vidarr how life in Boreas was going, he had a feeling the conversation was going elsewhere. The thoughts in his head lingered on topics he didn't feel comfortable asking Hattori. The Kaicho was much too serious to understand the flooding of hormones and confusion that fill him, nearly suffocating him.

"I am well," Akito starts, taking another hearty sip of the mead. It stings his throat, but he forces himself to not cough. He wasn't weak. "I met Maki recently. She is nice, sweet," he pauses. "I also met a Hallows girl. Do you know Artorias? Her name is Clove, she's one of Artorias' daughters," another pause, an inhale of breath, a sip of mead. "I'm terrible with girls. I'm terrible at talking. I'm pretty sure this is the most talking I've ever done in my life," sighing, he glances over at Vidarr and realizes how much the mead has gotten to him. "What do I do?" He ends it, clutching the cup tighter in his paw as he turned to look back at the fire.

"speech"

The boy sputtered, earning an approving smile from the viking king.  He's relaxed, allowing more of himself to show through as well.  Though Víðarr does much for his public reputation, he balances it with the real man.  Pride washes over his face, his tone, as he looks at the boy.  Really, a fine young man.  

Though it doesn't escape him that Akito is biting back a cough, he won't draw attention to it.  It would come in time.  Víðarr simply sits and listens as he speaks of the girls, a little twitch to his dark lips as he mentions the girls.  Dear, sweet Maki, that didn't surprise him much.  There was also the question of Artorias, one that led the viking king to lift his eyebrows.  Clove had come to visit with her father, not all that long ago. "Artorias and I have met, yes. Clove and Maki are both nice girls." It's an approving tilt of his chin, another sip of his mead. Pausing, before he answers Akito's bigger question.

"Let them do most of the talking. Ask them questions, be interested. Show them you care, remember what they like, think about things that would make their lives easier." He thinks for a moment, looking to Akito with a warmth about him. "You are always welcome to visit the mountain." Brows lifting-- Maki does happen to live on that mountain. The supervision was loose, and they're yearlings. It's an open door for the boy, if he'd like it.

"Víðarr"

Akito doesn't hate how the mead tastes, but he's not a particular fan at how dizzy it makes his head. He can't really keep his thoughts straight either, but listening to Vidarr is all he can really manage. Keeping his eyes on the fire, he has an ear turned in the Viking's direction. A humbling nod, a thoughtful noise emitting from his throat. Ask questions, listen, make their lives easier. That was all doable right? Clove was so... adventurous and Maki so... Maki. Akito didn't really have a word to describe the girl. Their interactions had been awkward at best so far, but maybe a visit to the mountain would be good? Interest flickers in his eyes as he turns to look at Vidarr. "Perhaps I'll bring by some goods," Akito mumbles, his speech slightly slurred as he takes one final sip from the mead. Though his typically stoic expression is still there, one might have been able to see a glimmer of something hiding beneath the facade. "Thank you for listening. It helped," the boy leans over and bumps his shoulder against Vidarr's. "I definitely need to lie down now," he lets out a nervous laugh before stumbling over the log behind them and finding himself a dark corner to curl up in. -Exit Akito-