hold the heathen hammer high

Víðarr · 02-19-2023, 05:09 AM

Winter had come, and he'd returned. Víðarr always seemed to find his way back here. There was something strangely comforting about the coverage the Wall provided. A good perch, and a good break from the wind, depending on the direction and his mood. This was as good a place as any to post himself up, to make himself feel at home. One of the places, one of the spaces that called him back time and time again. One of, as the others were less accessible right now. The woods had been taken by a pack, and the forest beside it was too close for comfort. Those things would shift in time, would change. If the shadow had to bring about change on his own then by the gods, he would. Still, he would bide his time. Víðarr is more intelligent, more calculated than he would let on, after all.

With snow piled high on either side, the crumbling wall didn't seem nearly as high off the ground as it typically did. Carefully, he picked his way to the top, leaping up the last bit of incline. From his perch, he could see well off in either direction. This was a good way to spend the fading winter sunlight, in his mind. The afternoons would grow longer soon. For now he can enjoy the cold and the dark, but it wouldn't always be the case. For now he could enjoy his scraps and shreds of solitude, too. Not that he'd complain about company, but it can be nice sometimes. Being alone with his thoughts? Something like that.

A stiff breeze comes in from the east, and the shadow tilts his face into it. This. This is what it truly means to be alive. For that, he is grateful.

"Víðarr"

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hold the heathen hammer high

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Víðarr