I Was Drunk As A Skunk Having Lunch With A Cross-Eyed Bear... You Been There ;D

Viðarr took a long step back as the creature fell, lifeless. His heart pounded in his chest. He and Fisk both showed signs of the fight-- fur tousled, covered in gore. It was a good fight, though, and he was satisfied. The shadow gave a great shake of his dark pelt and crossed to inspect his companion for damage. Pleased to see that the dog was no worse for wear (and appeared to have enjoyed himself, as his tail was wagging), he returned to the leopard that had joined in the scuffle.

"You are okay?" It was a question to her, peering at the stranger carefully. If not, he'd ask Iðunn to patch his comrade up. "I camp close, we have a healer," it was an offer that Viðarr was happy to make, after all. The leopard had made for excellent assistance, and the least he could do was ensure that she was alright before going their separate ways. Viðarr recognized that he'd be sore tomorrow, but damn the fight had felt good.
"Viðarr"