Elaborate(claiming)

Víðarr

With Tenshi at his back, Víðarr felt as though he could take on the world. Anything for her. Everything for her. Though he wouldn’t dwell on the thought, her presence alone was enough to make all of this, all of him, come alive. Best of luck, the sentiment came. “Víðarr Trygg.” He offers his name, and a stiff, careful nod. Was she relying on luck? Surely she couldn’t be. Why would he need luck? Especially when the outcome of this battle had been decided long ago in the eyes of the gods. He was still missing pieces of this place, the culture, the people. That didn’t matter, not here and not now. Víðarr felt the berserker inside him stirring, icy gaze glimmering as it fixed on Voodoo.
Fight start
In giving her the first move, Víðarr could see just what the girl was made of. On Voodoo’s move to rush him, the shadow did not yield. He would take a spare few steps to meet her, nails digging hard into the earth beneath his feet as he moved. Gathering as much power as he could in his hind legs, it was only a heartbeat until she was within striking distance. From there, the viking lurched forward at a shallow angle. Though she slammed into him, Víðarr would do his best to slam right back. If she wanted to be close, he was happy to get close. Close benefitted the viking, with his advanced size and bulk, far more than it did the girl.

He would take the impact to the outside of his left foreleg, not the inside. Víðarr had protected his chest for now, though the dull ache that radiated through his forequarters foreshadowed the bruise in his future. For now, pain served as fuel to his fire. The viking could only hope that the impact had affected Voodoo similarly.

A menacing growl echoed from his chest. Víðarr pinned his ears clean to his skull, tucked his chin to protect his throat. He recognized that he wasn’t fast enough to land the first bite. Instead, Voodoo connected with his lower cheek. The viking grimaced and snarled, feeling his flesh give way to the bite. Voodoo had successfully latched onto the side of his face, though the adrenaline coursing through his system was enough to dull the pain. In the same instant, Víðarr moved to throw the bulk of his head and forequarters into her. If she wanted to bite, let her bite. He forced himself in the direction that she had struck from. The viking attempted to pressure into her and downward, continuing the trajectory she’d already begun.

Víðarr fought to maintain control as he continued driving his weight in Voodoo’s direction. Relative control, in the heat of combat. He grounded himself in his rear end, sinking his weight. Confident in his stance, Víðarr lifted his left foreleg while lashing out fervently with his teeth. It was reckless, and he did not aim with precision, instead seeking purchase wherever he could find it. The threat of a savage bite was merely a diversion– Víðarr’s real aim was to tangle his left foreleg among Voodoo’s. The viking wanted her off balance, wanted to use his weight to force her to the ground beneath him. Balance. In the fight to maintain his own, the viking’s hind toes splayed, nails digging into the ground in the search for more control. The delicate balance between chaos and control– he reveled in it.

VÍÐARR
Ragnarök awaits.

Víðarr VS Voodoo for pack claim
Round 1/3
Height: 45"
Build: heavy

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Elaborate(claiming)

Claiming

Víðarr