hold the heathen hammer high

There is no threat, but there is understanding. Viðarr is protective over the small koi girl with the ram horns. He'd made her a promise, though it wasn't even a pact made aloud. The shadow is a protector, and he takes that role seriously. The response that comes is an acceptable one, and plausible in Viðarr's mind. The shadow considers for a long moment before nodding. "He is noisy, but means well." His words come from a place of sincerity. They come with a bit of a mischievous glimmer, maybe the hint of a chuckle. There is fondness here.

They are all of the same culture, the same creed. This is something that Viðarr can understand. "I am Viðarr Trygg." The introduction comes without ceremony. The shadow doesn't know what the custom here is, but then, between two strangers from far away lands that doesn't matter much either. There is safety in that. There is safety and understanding between both of them as outsiders. Powerful, quiet, dangerous... but outsiders all the same. There was power in that, and danger in that. There was far more strength in being outside together than the average man knew. They know.

"Viðarr"