ride to meet your fate
Cooperative
Yesterday, 12:52 PM
Víðarr had shaken his false son loose, bolting into the red abyss. The boy would know better than to follow him, surely. Know better than to chase after him, know better than to come looking. Erik is no son of his-- no. The betrayer. He'd betrayed Víðarr's trust, and the shadow railed against it. Through the relative chill of the northern summer he runs, a bat out of hell. For once, he feels good. Slowing only when he can see the ship in the distance, the viking king allows himself to drink in the strange environment. Craters dug, far larger than any burrowing beast that comes to mind. The surfaces was strange, raw, like an open scab... very, very odd. Prey animals were acting strangely, and there's only one way to sort out the root of the issue. Catch them. Icy gaze sweeping the relatively barren landscape, Víðarr scents the stiff breeze. Elk... good enough. Taking off in the direction of the herd, the shadow runs until they come into focus through the red distance. A herd of them, with a few stragglers to boot. Excellent. Time to get down to business, clarity through his scattered thoughts. In Víðarr's mind, he's still young, spry-- no different than he was when he hunted these lands as a new arrival to Boreas. |
![[Image: bfcOTDt.png]](https://i.imgur.com/bfcOTDt.png)
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.