we have a hope we must defend

The ravens caught his attention. Omens, harbingers. Viðarr's head lifted, a glimmer in his eye. These weren't just ravens, they were familiar ravens. Harbingers of something alright-- they foretold the coming of a little girl. Picking up a light jog, the shadow is able to trace her scent on the shifting breeze. She came into view, limping but otherwise whole. "Tja, gumman!" He calls to her, pale eyes shining in sunlight that dappled through the trees.

"Your friends, they said you were here." Viðarr smiled warmly, gesturing up to the ravens. As he closed the gap, he reached his muzzle out to the girl. A casual greeting, but a guarded one. He was her dad, but Viðarr recognized that he was still largely a stranger. "How was your walk?" It was a long walk, he knew that much. Going down to see the pups and speak to Hattori had been a trek, after all. Such a walk for such young pups, it was good they'd come from hardy, traveler stock.

"Do you want to explore? I have something to show you." His tone was quiet, secretive. Like he was going to show her something that was for her eyes only. Mischief in the heart of the viking, and fondness for his daughter. It seemed to bring him to life in a way that was far more colorful than usual.

"Viðarr"