I'm bad as bad can be

There's something about them together, the way they work, the way they move. They're brilliant. They're so brilliant. Iðunn is a creature that some would consider... strange. That's true. She's strange, she's oddly delighted by violence, and she has some weird manners. Between the pair though, there hangs an understanding. Together they're something greater than the sum of parts. Together they're efficient in a way that many could only dream of being. It's excellent. By the gods, together they are excellent.

Viðarr lets go a brassy chuckle as she teases about his losing an eye. Some day, probably, but likely not today. It's true, he couldn't help himself but to get injured sometimes. It was the way of the berserker, something that couldn't be tamed. Iðunn should know that as well as any, and he suspects that she does. Still, she's not wrong. From just below his eye, he bleeds slowly. The shadow can taste his own blood in his mouth, and it coats his teeth as he grins. "Odin lost an eye and he's still hot," it's roguish. The grin that plays on his features is broad, and reaches clear up to his eyes.

He catches his breath with a shake of his shadowy pelt and a stretch. "I'm tired," he laments after a moment. Still, it's not a complaint. No. It's something far better, far more lovely. Viðarr is satisfied with the day's work, and it's time to head back. It's time to head home.

"Viðarr"