bringa ätlingarna hem

Víðarr

He'd left a note in the dirt beside the main path leading away from camp. He'd told Sanngriðr to tell whoever she saw. It was time for all of them to come together, to meet, to speak. Judging by how high and how full the moon had been lately, this would be when Midsummer would be if they'd been in the motherland. Less and less, he'd been referring to the place they'd hailed from as home. No. It was simply the motherland. This was home now. This was their home now. This place wouldn't be getting rid of them. The Tryggs were here to stay.

He'd tracked and brought in a pair of small whitetails today. What was a meeting without a feast to go with it? They sat beside the fire that crackled merrily in the pit. Dusk. Supper time. Time that everyone be winding down from whatever they'd been up to that day. Víðarr had been busy making preparations, readying for this gathering. Hell, he'd even had to prepare to do it in the common tongue as well as the mother tongue, just in case. There was no telling who exactly would be joining them for the announcement that he was going to make.

As the moon began to show in the not quite dusk, the shadow figured it was time. Sitting in one of the well settled spaces around the fire pit in their camp, Víðarr tipped his head back and made the call for his family. It was time.

VÍÐARR
Ragnarök awaits.

deadline for first post is going to be around the 17, but I might start round 2 sooner if it seems like everyone is here beforehand

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