Does the viking king realize that expanding down here is perhaps not his finest idea? Yes. Does he think that it's perhaps his finest idea? Also yes. Víðarr knows that the mountain is cold and harsh, he knows that there are several among their numbers who would do better tucked away. Though he loves the mountain and the life it affords them, there's also something brilliant about being able to disappear from it all. If they take the Crypt, then they really have it all. They would be well-fortified, and more than that... they'd have the space they needed to finally hear the pitter patter of the littlest viking paws.
No more putting the cart before the horse. Víðarr had scoped out the area, he knew what was down here. Coyotes, an untold number of them, that had moved into the Crypt after its last residents had vacated. He'd taken a few brave volunteers down to clear them out, sweep them from the depths and the darkness. With a keen eye, the shadow peered into the darkness. Reflective light shone off several sets of eyes, from which he took a step back to look towards his crew of volunteers. "We give them hell." With a pleasant smile over his shoulder, Víðarr led the charge on the coyotes. This would be fun.
"Víðarr"
This character is unstable. Blanket TW for mental health themes applies to all posts.
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)
