brave & free

The attack had come by surprise, even for the viking king. As aware as he typically is, the searing pain in his ankle suggested that he missed something. At once, he's hit with the boy, and he breaks into a grin upon impact. Recognizing the boy at once-- one of his own. Or, maybe not, but that didn't matter. That never needed to matter, in Viðarr's mind. Children of murky origin weren't uncommon among his people. The young boy was fierce, strong, and one that Viðarr would be happy to claim.

A heartbeat after teeth connect with his flesh, Viðarr kicked out. The movement is an effort to press his ankle farther into the boy's mouth, and possibly push him off. In the same breath, he rounds on the boy, teeth flashing white in the harsh sunlight. It was a sneaky move, and the viking king is proud. Though Viðarr does not strike with the same force he would in a real battle, he does move with the same speed. No, this is training, but he isn't going easy on Akito. Viðarr respects him too much for that.

Teeth reach out recklessly, aim taken for the place his son had attacked from. He'd approached slowly, to have moved so silently. There would be no momentum built up, and Viðarr could use that to his advantage. Heart pounding in his chest, the viking king was already enjoying this.

"Viðarr"