krigets konst jag behärskar

Love, love, of course. Love for the gods, love for his family. Love for all of it– that would conquer all. It would draw them together and hold them together, though the message wasn’t quite as soft as that. Víðarr knew. The love that they showed… the love that they were capable of, it was a ferocious kind of love. Showing love was different for them… love. A concept that he understood, but only… but only in his own way. Víðarr understood, but he didn’t. Maybe he missed the point of the messenger’s word, but it’s renewed faith. Renewed confidence. It’s renewed him all the more.

His tail twitched at his haunches. Softly, the words, the voice of a child, he speaks to the vision once more. “I won’t let you down.” They are strong words, resonating from deep inside his chest. Confidence in himself, confidence in his gods. This is the right path. Víðarr is on the right path, and he knows it. By the gods, he knows it.

"Viðarr"