sparks fly high when steel meets steel

Industrious as they are, they also understand the value of rest. Viðarr much prefers that rest in the height of the summer afternoons, when he'd be a panting and uncomfortable mess in a few minutes flat. No, that wouldn't do. Instead he would take the time to watch the world as it passed by beneath his perch. If he was lucky, maybe some poor soul would arrive on the battlefield to issue a challenge. Those were the best days, when he could study how the others here fought. It was maybe a bit less fun without his sister's commentary, but she'd busied herself differently today. The shadow would simply sit and hang out on his own.

On his own, at least, until he heard the voice of another. "It is not my forest, and you do not intrude." It was not his forest yet, though that was the intention. Soon, things would come into place. Soon, he'd be able to call this forest his own. No, for now, he stakes no claim. Viðarr needed to bide his time for just a bit longer... ah, still. "But I welcome the ah..." ah shit what was the word. He paused for a moment. "Company," right, there we go. Viðarr peered curiously down at the man from his perch, chin resting on his paws.

"Viðarr"