Grief. He could see it on their faces, reflected as plainly as it was on his own heart. Not all of them, but enough of them. There's warmth, knowing, in his expression as they all draw near. Scooping his son up with a gentle paw, chuckling to himself, setting his chin on his wife's shoulder as they all gather near.
"No killing today," a chuckle in Víðarr's tone. "This season has been... much. For many of us. We are going to the Hallows to raid their liquor cabinets and wine stores." It's an announcement that comes with a light smile. From what he understands, their wine is second to none, and what better time?
"I do not want to see gratuitous use of force, this time around." It's a drill, not that either pack would be warned ahead of time. He'd be happy to return the favor later. Checking in with a last glance around the gathered raiders, the viking king is more than happy to set out.
"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)
