Team "H" vs Team "The Angsty Boys"

Fights like this were good fun, and Viðarr was enjoying himself more than he cared to admit. His eyes danced, and he remained steady on his feet. A damn good time, if he did say so himself. The taste of the red boy's blood in his mouth, ah yes-- this certainly was a fight. Fight, and fight they would. Somewhere in the shadow's mind he knows that Cloudburst fights as well, and he holds his own well. Ah yes, all of it, beautiful. Breath in his lungs deep, pulse beginning to pick up. Excellent. All of it excellent.

The boy moved quickly, and Viðarr was doing his best to keep up. While he grabbed for the shadow's leg sure, he'd find it. Viðarr could feel the sting of breaking skin, tearing it even further as he wrenched free of the child's grasp. There was blood-- he could smell it, he could feel it running hot down to his paws and the ground. A laugh cursed his chest, coursed through his entire system. Gods, how he loved it. It's as if he could feel Tyr's hand on his own shoulder, clapping him in the back. All raw power, Viðarr turned tightly, not wanting to allow Cináed to take space. Relentless as the shadow was, he knew that his larger form had its disadvantages too. Teeth gnashing, it's a reckless attack-- a berserker's attack. They'd come in quick succession, and there was no telling for even Viðarr where or if they'd land. No, all he wants is to stay near enough to the young man to remain effective. That would be enough, for now.

"Viðarr"