hold the heathen hammer high

Víðarr

Víðarr would not be alone for long, it seemed. From the south a stranger approached, dark and orange against the stark winter landscape. It's a careful assessment, considering as he neared. The colors, the build of this man, it wasn't so unlike Celeste's companion. Not the sulky one, the other one. The boy was relatively loud, but seemed to make his adopted daughter happy. Víðarr had met worse men in his travels, but his trust would be hard-won and would take time. Kuroki was young yet, and had much to learn.

And there was the question of the stranger. Víðarr's gaze was curious, appraising. Should he greet the stranger? Probably, especially before the dogs had anything to say about his appearance here. "Hej," he calls. Though the shadow's voice isn't all that loud, it resonates from somewhere deep in his chest. Polite, neutral. He would wait for the man to come closer before saying anything more.

"Víðarr"

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hold the heathen hammer high

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Víðarr