där storm mig fammar

Víðarr · 02-06-2023, 12:00 PM

He's settled in for lunch, the breeze carrying all sorts of scents through the Willows. There were always strange things on the wind, though this was stranger than usual. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. Maybe it was a playful spirit that didn't know quite the harm it would cause. His thoughts seemed to take him over, and take him to places filled with guilt and self doubt. Though he'd tried to be rock solid, complete, steady... he couldn't always promise that. There were plenty of things he could feel guilty for, and this was chief among them.

But the sound of his name on the priestess's tongue... that wasn't a trick. That was real. The dogs by his sides picked their heads up in interest, but did not bristle. The woman in his line of sight wasn't a spirit at all. She was very real, she was very here. "Iðunn," his tone was warm, and he was leaving much unsaid. There were too many things to say, and the shadow was a man of few words. He owes her an apology. He owes her far more than that. Still, he can't find the words. Not now, not yet.

"Come, sit, eat." It's an invitation that the shadow can only hope she won't reject outright. Víðarr nudges the hare in her direction, an offering. A peace offering, if she'll have it. A start.

Víðarr

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