so he found the heart in a barren land

Víðarr was sore, though he'd never admit it. His elder sister had positively handed him his own ass during training, but that was fine. He needed it. He needed to learn. Even with the added protection of his new bracers, of the shirt crafted from plates, she was still faster. The shadow played each practice over and over in his mind as he rested. He'd learn. He'd train. He'd get better-- he already was. That was fine enough.

The trees, the way the branches knit together, Víðarr was becoming more confident in the way he traversed them. Surefootedness came easily to him, but heights... heights had never been his favorite. Still, he'd found a decent spot that overlooked the battlefield and gotten comfortable. The afternoon sunlight dappled the world around him, and Víðarr was grateful for the shade that the trees provided. No, he wasn't hiding. Simply watching from his perch, and letting the world pass by. Though there was still much to do, afternoons (especially warm ones) were for resting.

"Viðarr"