Too Big For Our Britches

As was typical, Víðarr had taken up a post watching the comings and goings on the battlefield. He was never one to turn down a good spar, after all. His spot within the woods was one that granted him a solid vantage point, either to look for an opponent or simply to look on as a spectator. Entertainment value, if you would.

It seemed that today, it also gave him a front row seat to something dangerous. It was as soon as the hyenas noticed the pup that he sprang down from his perch. Still, Víðarr isn't the fastest man, especially not with a build like his. It wouldn't stop him from pushing himself to go faster. While he wasn't one to interfere with the fights others would pick, this was different. This was a child, and there were four grown mongrels. The shadow was grateful that he wasn't the only one to have noticed the trouble, though, as a familiar cat intervened as well.

Wordlessly, Víðarr barreled into the hyena nearest to the pup. He was a dense, shadowy thing, and the contact he made was hard. Something like being hit by a semi truck, really. All gas, no brakes. A growl ripped from his chest as he sunk his teeth into the back of the creature's neck, holding tight.

"Víðarr"