ge mig frid

Víðarr

Viðarr reaches out, there's nothing else he can do. He reaches out and takes hold of the woman as best he can, large head draped over her smaller neck. Holding. Carefully holding as best he can, for as long as she'll have him. It's a gentle gesture, but a vulnerable one-- one Viðarr knows can backfire. If it does, then that's on him, too. If she wants to lash out, if she wants to push back... it's his fault. Still, the shadow cannot help it. He cannot help himself, in all of this. He worries only about helping her, in this moment. If Tove will have the tender embrace, Viðarr won't be the first to break it.

It's now that he can catch her as she falls, or catch her... as best he can. This is the kind of thing that's never come easily to the shadow, a man of action, not of words. Physical comfort he can do, emotional... that's less something that he can offer. Still, Viðarr is gentle as he touches the woman. "I know... I know, I'm sorry," the words are quiet as he presses them against her neck, holding as tightly as she'll let him. She'd lost everything, and he hadn't been there to help pick up the pieces. He hadn't been what she deserved, and he had to live with that mistake. Mistakes... it wouldn't be his first, it wouldn't be his last. Mistakes that wouldn't define him, but still, he was just a man.

All Viðarr can do is hold her now, as best he can, for as long as she'll allow. It's his fault. All of it is... all the shadow can do is care for Tove, if she'll let him. Carefully, gently (seemingly too gentle, for the hulking creature that he is), he runs his nose across her cheek, her ears. There was nothing he could say to make things better, no, the man of few words he'd always been. All Viðarr knows is do.

Viðarr

Login
Username:
Password:	Lost Password?
	Remember me

ge mig frid

open

Víðarr