call me a dreamer
open
Cooperative
01-23-2022, 10:04 PM
Skogkatt… Víðarr considered that he may need to get himself one as well. He was relaxed as he sat with the creature, petting it happily. A friend, he decided. A friend, after so long away from home. The shadow would find a cat for himself, he decided. It had been too long, and if they were going to be settling in they’d need a cat for pest control anyway. It seemed like a win-win, and he certainly wasn’t just making decisions because he happened to like cats. The cat purred, and Víðarr beamed. A rare show of emotion, but he didn’t mind. There were plenty of reasons to smile today, and he would allow it. Comfortably, the man stretched out on the marble. If he hadn’t known better, he could have been the absolute picture of his namesake. A far away place, that was quite the thought. She looked away… ah. Though Víðarr knew that he’d never have the desire to return, he understood the strange longing that came from being in a far away place. It was hard not to have some desire for the comfort that came with sameness. Still, she asks of the all-mother, and he can’t help but slip into a storyteller’s tone. “The all-mother is a beautiful woman, tall and strong with golden hair. She’s the goddess of love, sex, beauty, and seiðr–” Víðarr broke off for a moment, brow furrowing as he attempted to translate. “It’s a kind of magic, allows for seeing of the future and changing it too. Dangerous stuff, not for the common folk.” Messing with the Norns was something that was at your own risk, of course. Víðarr wouldn’t go there. “Freyja is the wife of Odin, the all-father, but she’s so much more. We have a festival in her honor on the first day of spring every year,” he explained, accent still playing heavily in his words, but becoming more comfortable and confident as he spoke. Reverence rang clear and strong in his tone. “My homeland,” Víðarr paused to think. “It’s cold, very cold.” He chuckled before continuing. “Filled with strong warriors, men and women. We understand life is short, and we make the best of it however we can.” Víðarr’s tone was light, despite the seriousness of his words. “The land is forest and hills, mountains and fjord… all cold. In the winters there’s not much sun, in the summers there’s not much moon.” He was relaxed, though he did miss the extremely long daylight hours of summertime at home. “I am Víðarr Trygg,” he realizes now that he’s neglected to mention it, offering a small sidelong smile. It would only be polite. Still, Víðarr’s manners are rougher than the average, coming from a rough people. At least here, in the moment, he was trying. VÍÐARR Ragnarök awaits. |