brave & free

He is building that muscle, and Viðarr can see it. Though the boy lacks bulk, he's going to be something. Viðarr doesn't push as hard as he could, allowing the boy a chance to catch himself, to feel like he has a chance. Trying to light a fire in the boy, ignite the spark. Turn it into a flame... yes. Akito scrambles, and Viðarr tosses his head a bit. Inviting chase, hoping to entice the boy into striking. They would go over it later, this is okay. Viðarr is gleaming, thriving in this moment.

He dances back, and then-- oh. An interesting show of aggression. A reckless show of aggression. Was there berserker rage inside the boy? Is that what Viðarr saw, manifesting before his very eyes? Though there was some uncertainty in his mind, the sire of this particular pup, it's clear to him now. Lunging for his scruff, Viðarr can feel the pup try to latch on. The viking king leans forward, tucks his shoulder in. Rounds his back and shoulders, in an attempt to roll the pup right off. He mediates his speed some, not wanting to hurt the boy, should he make abrupt contact with the ground. Letting him down easily, while enough to hopefully show him why that wasn't the best idea.

Panting, but proud, Viðarr is certain that this is his boy.

"Viðarr"