The Maw. His mountain. Víðarr had to get back to his mountain, had to be close to his gods, had to be where the only true members of his kin remained. The viking king and his triumphant return, face still covered in blood, everything about him worse. Delusional? Maybe. But everything is so real to him.
Returning home as if dragging himself over a finish line, the viking king is back-- with no sign of the betrayer to boot. Good. Gaze sweeping the foothills, Víðarr fixates on a small, tawny creature. Treating travelers with the upmost respect is in his blood, and especially with the gods so near under the red sky-- Víðarr calls out, tone more gentle than it has been, lately. "What brings you to my mountain?" His tone is curious, open, as he approaches.
"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)
