The shadow is reckless. A berserker in every right, the best defense is a good offense. Something burned brightly, brilliantly within him. By the gods, he is brilliant. He catches Lorikeet's presence somewhere not too far off, picking up on her scent on the breeze before truly turning up. "When the mountain is safe, maybe." The words are spoken with brass and confidence, and Víðarr is in his glory.
Holding the bear's attention, the viking king is more than happy to take a couple shots. Grinning, growling, making to sunder the bear. Sunder and smash, lunging and snapping. Holding the attention of the predator and maintaining an opening for Lorikeet and her little cat friend. Víðarr is so incredibly pleased with this fight, with these feelings. As he takes a strong thump from the bear's paw, he can feel a claw dig into the flesh of his shoulder. It only served to fuel him more, teeth gnashing and shining.
"Víðarr"
Víðarr has two Karelian bear dogs and a white morph tawny owl. Assume they're within calling distance unless otherwise stated.
Víðarr speaks with a dense Swedish accent.
Cooperative
![[Image: bfcOTDt.png]](https://i.imgur.com/bfcOTDt.png)
