hear a rising force

The shadow peered at the child carefully, watching her shift and uncurl herself. A peculiar girl, but then, it seemed both of Voodoo's children were. Then, it seemed they'd been through a lot in their short lives. Víðarr is inclined to forgive the strangeness, as long as they were actively trying to prove their worth within the pack. It would be the same for all of the thralls, each capable of setting themselves free in time. His gaze does not waver on the child. "No," he shakes his head. "The red warrior with the scowl, Róta, and the younger priest, Auðr, are my siblings." The shadow can't help but smile at the mention of his family. Though they were different, they were the same industrious, hardy, northern stock.

Jaybird speaks of hiding. Víðarr thought for a moment, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I do not need to hide. I know if I fight, the gods will be at my side." That was the way, after all. Víðarr looks curiously to the child, studying her for a moment. "You can hide, if you would like. But I do not want you to feel like you need to, here." It's an olive branch extended to the yearling. They had been through a lot, Víðarr knew that much. Maybe if there was stability here, she could grow into something great. He could make the offer, at least.

"Víðarr"