Infinity's Call

Celeste's passing was a blow to them all. Though the viking king had never been one for large shows of emotion, he'd been grieving the loss of his daughter in his own way. Eldest daughter. Fuck. And to look at Maki as she approached, wearing her grief on her sleeve. On the verge of tears, though he couldn't blame her. As she tries to apologize, he waves it away. Though he's many things, unreasonable isn't one of them. Instead, Víðarr moves to set a warm paw on her shoulder. He's not well versed in comfort, but doing his best.

While he'd planned on it being a larger lesson, Víðarr wouldn't be disappointed with the one on one time. His granddaughters were growing, wild and strong. How long would they stay, how long would they want to come to him for training? He'd make the most of it. "Come, lillan. You fought well during the raid, we should find you a suitable weapon." The viking king's gesture to the spread of weapons is grand, showy.

Lifting an axe, he takes it first. A few slow demonstrative swings, being sure to show off what should be good form. Grip balanced, but not too tight. Moving fluidly with the weapon, and keeping heed of which way the blades balanced. "Practice axe, but weighted like the real thing. Take a few cracks at the dummy, see how it feels. Only focus on feeling, nothing else really matters right now." Víðarr offered the wooden weapon to Maki, handle first, encouraging.

"Víðarr"