ardent

call me a dreamer

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Víðarr

The Hallows
Hallowed

Master Fighter (245)

Master Hunter (245)

An icon representing the specialty Cooperative Cooperative

age
8 Years
gender
Male
gems
51
size
Dire wolf
build
Heavy
posts
474
player
wicked

OverachieverUnderachieverRapid Poster - BronzePride - PansexualDouble MasterSamhain 2022
Statue 1 Worship1K
01-08-2022, 04:31 PM

She looked... confused. That was fair, Víðarr supposed. Still, he smiled as she came nearer, calling the creature to return to them. Bestow a name... that was a fair question. "They're called skogkatt, and two pull the chariot that belongs to the all-mother Freyja." The most words that the usually silent Víðarr had strung together in a very long time. His eyes shone with the light of a story teller, and it was clear that the shadow had settled in. "There are many names for her cats. Some call them Brundr and Kælinn, others Bygul and Trjegul," he paused to take a breath, but was quickly distracted by the cat itself. Gently, Víðarr reached down to pat the creature with his soft muzzle. A smile played on the shadow's usually stoic face.

"Freyja rides her chariot into battle, choosing half of the dying to join her in Sessrúmnir. Sometimes she brings it to collect women, mothers, daughters, from their homes and welcomes them to dine with her too," though his accent was thick, his words were clear, holding so many shades of reverence. It had been a long time since he'd been able to talk of the all-mother and her wonder, her finery. There was no use for his storytelling with Iðunn around. She knew the tales better than he. Still, with a stranger, he could be the authority in it. Yes, a reverence came from the shadow.

"He does," the man affirmed, a glimmer in his icy eye. He was comfortable, here, in moments like this. The stone was smooth and comfortable beneath him, and Víðarr could simply enjoy the sunset. Once more, he reached to pat the cat. He was soft and pleasant to the touch. "We're from far away to the north and the east. We departed late last summer, and have only just arrived." Víðarr spoke evenly, his smile never fading. They'd been on a grand adventure, after all. "Are yours?" Right, he'd be polite and show interest after running away with the conversation to tell Freyja's tales. Sanngriðr would have boxed him about the ears for his lack of manners.












VÍÐARR
Ragnarök awaits.