silent but distant

Víðarr

Víðarr wouldn't tell you just how relaxed he was on the beach, no. He'd become a creature of habit, haunting the same spaces up in the north of Boreas. Not complacent. Certainly not comfortable yet, not here. Though a wanderer and an explorer, these days he was less and less interested in leaving his family unprotected. It wasn't that they couldn't defend themselves-- quite the opposite. No, it was more that Víðarr cared not for leaving them vulnerable, and in a state where they had to protect themselves. They would never need to fend for themselves again, if he could help it.

A warm summer afternoon had spread out around him, beautiful but sleepy. He'd been resting alright lately, but the heat. The damned heat. Víðarr was decidedly not a fan. It would never get this warm in the homeland they'd left. It struck the shadow that he thought of that place, the scene of all their befores as home less and less. Their camp beside the wall-- that was home. For now, that was their home, quite specifically. After a year on the move, they finally felt as if they'd put enough space between themselves and all their befores. The time was coming (soon, so incredibly soon) to start their afters.

Deeply, the shadow sighed and peered out over the Sound. Víðarr pulled himself to his paws and approached the water's edge, splashing halfheartedly. It was cool, and felt nice against his dense fur. Ah, what the hell, he thought. Taking a few steps back, he bolted forward and sent himself crashing into the chilly water.

VÍÐARR
Ragnarök awaits.

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silent but distant

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Víðarr