redo för ett slag

The viking needed to find them. He needed to be back with them. He had his bearings, he'd gotten them. He'd caught his breath, and was re-settling into the north. Now he needed to find his family. Viðarr was ready. It was time. They had business to attend to. They had things about the land to learn, to explore, to understand. Things in the north had changed, and he needed to figure out what exactly those things were.

It would come in time. Everything would come in time. What he needed now, though, was to find the rest of the family. The rest of the band. They needed to sit down and meet together, and they needed to meet Katla. The child wasn't his, but she was his-- if that made sense. A child in winter, Viðarr couldn't well just leave her there. No, she'd come back with him. The viking insisted. Just as the rest of them were, she was family now. Family is what you make it, after all.

Viðarr tracked back towards the Wall. He'd use that as the starting point. An expert tracker, it shouldn't take him long to find the rest of the family. For now, it was getting to be later in the afternoon. Daylight would fade soon, and Viðarr was happy to settle in beside the wall itself for the night. Some things had changed. Some hadn't. The Wall would still be his starting point. Now... was it time to find dinner?

"Viðarr"