we have a hope we must defend

She bounces up and holds on, and Viðarr doesn't complain. Let her bounce. She could bounce, she could hold. The little girl was content to grab at his ears, yank at his face, hold on where she could find a grip. Though there was some question as to the sire of each of the pups, there wasn't a question in Viðarr's mind that Morganna was his. A little glimmer in his eye as she does, even. "The north is my home." The words come easily enough, an explanation that was good enough for now. The north was his home, and it would always be. He was relaxed as he moved beside his daughter, long steps as he led the way forward.

"Over here." Viðarr's voice remained low, confidential. Though Morganna's steps were loud and crunchy through the leaves, it didn't bother him so much. What they were off to see wasn't something that could be scared away. Wasn't something that could be spooked off, no, not yet. The nest his companion had stumbled on a few days ago was long-abandoned, though one live egg had remained inside it. Viðarr had been keeping watch over it, while he decided what to do. With his children and their visit to the north, the perfect plan hatched within his head.

"Look," the words soft as he beckons Morganna to his side. The egg and the nest pristine before him. "It is a predator-bird, I don't know what kind." He explained, his own owl shuffling in a tree high above them. "For you to hatch, and raise, and train." Viðarr watched carefully for her reaction, hoping that the gift would be well received. The shadowed creature hoped.

"Viðarr"