Víðarr had slipped away from his family, settled as they had been around the strange wall. He needed to clear his head, and really get to thinking. This place... it really wasn't so bad. As time passed he missed home less and less, but grew more road (and world) weary. Was it time to put down roots for real? Was it time to find somewhere new to call his home? That seemed right. He thought too, of his older sister. Would she not want to rest? Would she not want to stay still for a while? Víðarr worried about her, as he did. Things had been hard for her always, and he wanted to change that. Gods he so badly wanted to change that. In the fading daylight, the shadowed man stood at the edge of the marble wash. It looked like it wasn't even... wasn't even part of this world, really. Something else, something different. Being out at dusk might not be the best choice, but it was one Víðarr would make none the less. Exploring would still do him well. There was no fear to him, and he wasn't worried. Walking the path of the gods, he could take bold steps through the ancient riverbed and not worry. Confident. Easy. Víðarr had it easy, with his steady gait and even stride. Within the marble wash, he steadied and then slowed. Sitting carefully on his haunches, the man simply say and looked. Before him the sunset seemed to bathe the entire world in otherworldly finery. A sunset most golden, and most gorgeous. Víðarr decided that today was okay. VÍÐARR Ragnarök awaits.

Vegetation was sparse in these areas so the petite wolf wasn't sure why she had gone down into the riverbed. Dried up over the ages, she admired how it gleamed during the dusk light. Quite bored after a rather tumultuous turn of events in her life, she sought out something to do. Maybe a hobby other than hunting down prey larger than herself. Chatting every now and then with her feline companion, she skirted around the edges of the quarry. In the middle of her distracted trot, a masculine scent caught her attention. Slowing her gait to a lazy amble, she let her nose twitch until she found the area it was lurking in. Ahead of her, bathed in orange hues of sunlight, an obsidian-coated male sat staring at the horizon. To her, it sounded rather boring, but in a way, he appeared majestic. Sitting there, not many a sound to cause a ruckus, alone. Curious as she was, the dainty girl strode closer with her chin turned upward. Curled horns crested over her brow in a regal way as she shot her cat a look to say beat it. As she drew closer to the beast, her steps stayed quiet until she was close enough to see the color of his eyes. "Care for some company?" Celeste asks, her slightly deeper than normal feminine tone breaking the silence.

Gleaming, golden dusk spread out before the man. He liked it more than he cared to admit. It wasn't home, not yet, but maybe it could be. Not necessarily the broad, flat wash of marble specifically, but more generally. The north here... it wasn't home yet, but it was nice. Víðarr considered for a long moment just how lovely it would be to have a home again. His shadow stretched longer where he sat. Bathed in golden light, Víðarr was at peace. He could hear the approach of two sets of paws, and the shadow's eyes flickered to the source. Two of them... ah. She shooed the cat away, but the sight of the creature made him smile softly. "Cats of that size hold high regard among my people," the words were quiet, Víðarr's heavy accent playing among the words as they fell forth. His tail wagged against the granite beneath his body. Comfortable. Company was strange to the shadowed man, but he didn't really mind her presence. "Sure," he smiled, teeth glinting in the fading daylight. Víðarr was relaxed, entirely so. "Join me." His gaze returned to the sunset, and the beauty of the late afternoon around him. He hadn't taken time to study the yearling, not yet. No, the sunset was really what had drawn him in tonight, and the shadow found himself enjoying it. He'd allow himself to take simple pleasure in things for this afternoon. VÍÐARR Ragnarök awaits.

Her step took a pause when the shadowed man looked over his shoulder at her cat. A slightly confused expression flickered across her before her own chin turned to glance at the behemoth of a cat. While he was more than half her size, she was dainty compared to most that lived in these areas. "Do your people normally bestow a name upon such cats?" She questions as she sends out a quiet chitter to call the cat back. So far, the midnight feline had not spoken a word to her, but as he stopped to look back at the pair of wolves, his orange stare turned toward the male. Drawn toward the other accent of the stranger, her companion came back with a quick step. Passing by Celeste, as the man agreed to her company, the cat went to wind its way around the larger wolf's legs. A gentle sigh leaves Celeste as she nears him to take a seat on the cool stone beneath them. Facing the sunset as he did, she sent a side glance at her companion. "Appears, he might be fond of you," she says humored in her own accent. Unsurprised by the fact that another might speak a different language than her or the common tongue, she wondered where it would be from. "Are your people from these parts or afar?" She asks out of polite curiosity.

She looked... confused. That was fair, Víðarr supposed. Still, he smiled as she came nearer, calling the creature to return to them. Bestow a name... that was a fair question. "They're called skogkatt, and two pull the chariot that belongs to the all-mother Freyja." The most words that the usually silent Víðarr had strung together in a very long time. His eyes shone with the light of a story teller, and it was clear that the shadow had settled in. "There are many names for her cats. Some call them Brundr and Kælinn, others Bygul and Trjegul," he paused to take a breath, but was quickly distracted by the cat itself. Gently, Víðarr reached down to pat the creature with his soft muzzle. A smile played on the shadow's usually stoic face. "Freyja rides her chariot into battle, choosing half of the dying to join her in Sessrúmnir. Sometimes she brings it to collect women, mothers, daughters, from their homes and welcomes them to dine with her too," though his accent was thick, his words were clear, holding so many shades of reverence. It had been a long time since he'd been able to talk of the all-mother and her wonder, her finery. There was no use for his storytelling with Iðunn around. She knew the tales better than he. Still, with a stranger, he could be the authority in it. Yes, a reverence came from the shadow. "He does," the man affirmed, a glimmer in his icy eye. He was comfortable, here, in moments like this. The stone was smooth and comfortable beneath him, and Víðarr could simply enjoy the sunset. Once more, he reached to pat the cat. He was soft and pleasant to the touch. "We're from far away to the north and the east. We departed late last summer, and have only just arrived." Víðarr spoke evenly, his smile never fading. They'd been on a grand adventure, after all. "Are yours?" Right, he'd be polite and show interest after running away with the conversation to tell Freyja's tales. Sanngriðr would have boxed him about the ears for his lack of manners. VÍÐARR Ragnarök awaits.

Skogkatt. Celeste's brow furrowed slightly at the word. It wasn't a word she was familiar with. In her home country, they merely called felines "Neko" whether they were big or small. Her ears tuned into his deep voice as he began a short tale of the cats that roamed his home and with the gods. She could see, from where she sat, that his eyes had taken a new light. Ah, so this is where his interests lied. Pleased with herself that she could provide comfort for the man, a quiet laugh vibrated her throat as she watched the interaction between cat and wolf. A loud purr emitted from the cat when his muzzle reached down to touch him. Normally, when Celeste did allow the cat to cuddle with her, he would purr, but nothing of this volume. Surprise herself, she kept her words back as he continued on about his story of Freyja. Becoming more comfortable with the softly glowing smooth stone around them, she shifted her weight so that her sitting position was more relaxed. As the dying rays of the sun began fading over the horizon, she allowed her aquamarine eyes to lift up to the man's own gaze. When he mentioned that his wolves were from the north, she nodded. "Mine are from out east on a far-off island," she responded as her gaze turned away. Admiring the scenery around them, she felt a pang in her heart. Suddenly, she missed home and her family. Memories forgotten filtered back in, but she quickly erased them. Instead, she secretly wished she was back with the boy who could also speak her language. That was always easier, but she had enjoyed this stranger's stories. "Tell me more about your homeland your All-Mother, Freyja," Celestes says after a few beats of silence.

Skogkatt… Víðarr considered that he may need to get himself one as well. He was relaxed as he sat with the creature, petting it happily. A friend, he decided. A friend, after so long away from home. The shadow would find a cat for himself, he decided. It had been too long, and if they were going to be settling in they’d need a cat for pest control anyway. It seemed like a win-win, and he certainly wasn’t just making decisions because he happened to like cats. The cat purred, and Víðarr beamed. A rare show of emotion, but he didn’t mind. There were plenty of reasons to smile today, and he would allow it. Comfortably, the man stretched out on the marble. If he hadn’t known better, he could have been the absolute picture of his namesake. A far away place, that was quite the thought. She looked away… ah. Though Víðarr knew that he’d never have the desire to return, he understood the strange longing that came from being in a far away place. It was hard not to have some desire for the comfort that came with sameness. Still, she asks of the all-mother, and he can’t help but slip into a storyteller’s tone. “The all-mother is a beautiful woman, tall and strong with golden hair. She’s the goddess of love, sex, beauty, and seiðr–” Víðarr broke off for a moment, brow furrowing as he attempted to translate. “It’s a kind of magic, allows for seeing of the future and changing it too. Dangerous stuff, not for the common folk.” Messing with the Norns was something that was at your own risk, of course. Víðarr wouldn’t go there. “Freyja is the wife of Odin, the all-father, but she’s so much more. We have a festival in her honor on the first day of spring every year,” he explained, accent still playing heavily in his words, but becoming more comfortable and confident as he spoke. Reverence rang clear and strong in his tone. “My homeland,” Víðarr paused to think. “It’s cold, very cold.” He chuckled before continuing. “Filled with strong warriors, men and women. We understand life is short, and we make the best of it however we can.” Víðarr’s tone was light, despite the seriousness of his words. “The land is forest and hills, mountains and fjord… all cold. In the winters there’s not much sun, in the summers there’s not much moon.” He was relaxed, though he did miss the extremely long daylight hours of summertime at home. “I am Víðarr Trygg,” he realizes now that he’s neglected to mention it, offering a small sidelong smile. It would only be polite. Still, Víðarr’s manners are rougher than the average, coming from a rough people. At least here, in the moment, he was trying. VÍÐARR Ragnarök awaits.

As her companion curled close to the man with his purrs deafened by the baritone of the man, Celeste collected her inner thoughts for a moment. It would be rude of her to start crying now. No, she would immerse herself in his stories so that her homesickness could subside. Shutting her eyes briefly and inhaling softly, the petite girl let her nerves calm as his stories began again. Turning her ivory chin to glance over at him as he settled into his storyteller mode, she listened intently. The place he described sounded beautiful and familial. As if everyone there was one of the same. Like her home, but different. "You are a fantastic storyteller, Vidarr Trygg," she says with a small smile as her own front paws slide out in front of her lay. Relaxing her own body so that her back legs shifted out and her hip lay upon the cool stone, she watched him with interest. From afar, they would merely appear as two midnight forms upon a large boulder. Cast upon the final rays of light, it was simply picturesque. "I am Celeste," her words are soft as she turns her face back out to look at the darkened forest and rubble around them. Long forgotten was her true name, a name that held no meaning in this world. "Do you wish to create something similar to your homelands here? Did your family follow you?" The questions left her lips shortly after introducing herself. Was she avoiding talking about herself? Possibly, but curiosity also spiked inside her to know more of him. He appeared to be wise and interesting, but others had also told her once upon a time that she could be too nosy. "I apologize if I ask too many questions. You can tell me to stop whenever," a light laugh leaves her lips as she looks back over to him again.

Her anguish doesn't quite go unnoticed. It's one that Viðarr himself can relate to. The heartsickness that came with leaving the only home you've ever known, stepping away, stepping into the unknown. He's no good at comfort, but he wouldn't let the girl be alone. No, not unless she wanted it. A caretaker by nature, taking in wanderers and strays-- hospitality is the way of his people. So it goes when the gods walk and live among you, and can show themselves as anyone, at any time. Though the girl is different, she's also the same. More than she knows, more than he shows, they are similar.

Celeste, she was called. She complimented his storytelling, and he dipped his chin in thanks. "It is good to meet you," the words were genuine. Still, it's a bit harder for him to speak his own words, instead of relying on his stories as a crutch. Social interaction can be hard sometimes. That's alright, though. Viðarr is alright.

The girl can be nosy, that's alright. Viðarr was grateful that he didn't have to guide the conversation in a language that he didn't quite understand. "My siblings, my cousins, are here too." He affirmed. There was a comfort that came from not being alone. "My older sister led us, we came for adventure." That was what he knew of the situation, and it made sense. The shadow and his people were adventurers by nature, and adventurers they would always be.

"We have decided we are staying," Viðarr began, carefully wading through words that he didn't necessarily understand. "I will lead, but family is circle," no, those words weren't quite right. The shadow's brow furrowed for a moment, sorting out how to say what he meant in the common tongue. "Ah, look," in a bit of dust that had settled on the marble, Viðarr drew a circle. At the top, he drew a singular outward pointing arrow. "If only one pulls like this, the circle is no more." Around the circle now, he drew arrows pointing outwards. "If all pull, like this, the circle is even stronger." As he finished speaking, he looked to the girl. "Is making sense?" Right, check for understanding. The shadow wasn't always the best at explaining his thoughts. They were all of equal importance.

"Do not worry, Celeste." He offered a smile. If anything, she was good company and he got to work on his English, it seemed like a win-win. For so long it had only been the company of family. He couldn't help but he grateful there was someone else out here. "You are alone here?" It may not have been the most tactful way to put the question, but it got the job done. Viðarr couldn't leave the yearling out here on her own, too protective in nature. Celeste reminded him of his sisters, of his cousins... he'd only hope someone well meaning would do the same for them, in the same scenario.

"Viðarr"

While she could tell that his common tongue was not as rehearsed as her own, she could understand him fine. Listening carefully, her smile showed her genuine interest. "You as well," she murmured with a dip of her own chin in his direction. It was nice to get away from the reality of life for the time being. To be enveloped in a small bubble with this other wolf was exactly what she needed. Feeling more relaxed than she had been in days, her mind wandered for a moment before being pulled back into the words he spoke. As he explained that he had traveled with family for an adventure, her smile broke out a little wider. That indeed sounded like a good time. Not that she really remembered having any siblings at all, but she did have cousins she used to play with. Her eyes followed down to the dust that had settled over the boulder. Watching him draw a circle with arrows to explain the unity of his family, she nodded in understanding. "I understand. If one goes away, the circle is weak. If you all move together, the circle is stronger," Celeste looks up to him with a smile in return. His next question sours her smile slightly. Faltering slightly, she looks away toward the deepening shadows. "I came here alone, yes. I have met many others here so far, but no one that is quite family," her voice is soft as she replies before looking back toward him. "I am strong though and can keep myself safe," she reassures him with a shrug of her shoulders before looking back to the circle he'd drawn in the dust. Would her own still be strong if someone had come with her?

She understood. Viðarr nodded softly, a smile cracking his dark features. Yes, this was correct. "Each takes care of the others. Some day we may establish ourselves here, but it will always be a circle." The words were clumsy, but he spoke with conviction. Viðarr didn't need to be the best speaker, he didn't need to be the most eloquent-- he had the most heart. He could sit at their helm with his heart, and as a family they could handle the rest. "More than blood makes a family." He affirmed, happy to let the thought slip from his lips as it came.

She came alone. His forehead creased with worry. Celeste says that she can keep herself safe, and he doesn't doubt her. Still. "Just because you can doesn't mean you should have to, unless that's what you wish." The words were gentle, and Viðarr takes on the tone of a concerned father. He figured that he'd be good at that, some day. Concern comes easily to him, and he's a protector by nature... always had been. Always would be. The largest of his litter, the one that lacked fear. What was there to fear when the norns were on his side-- or at least, he thought they were.

"You are welcome to camp with us," Viðarr's offer was gentle. "At the least, join us for dinner." He smiled easily, never shifting from his relaxed posture. "My cousin Iðunn is an even better storyteller than me," the shadow spoke softly as he moved once more to pet the cat. Hospitality towards wanderers was a part of their culture that wouldn't be changed. They believed that the gods walked among them, living and breathing, and often came in the form of travelers or wanderers. It was only right.

"Viðarr"

A slightly disgruntled expression crosses her face. Just because she can, didn't mean she had to. Of course. If she had wanted to, she would've never come to these lands. That had been forced. Stolen were her memories of that night and those days between the time she had been home and then was here. Trying to keep her anguish to herself, her head shook softly. "I appreciate the offer," her words are stony as she looks at the man. Celeste can see a father's concern in his gaze. That would be one thing she didn't miss. Her father. Oh, that man. Sighing, Celeste knew that Vidarr was nothing like that of her family, but she had other things to do. There were others like here nearby that could help her. "Your family sounds amazing," she chose her words carefully so that she didn't offend him. "Typically, I would accept, but there is someone I need to see," Celeste knew then the wolf she needed to seek out. Not the son, but the father. Surely, the other titan of a shadowy figure would have more answers for her. "Thank you for visiting with me, but I should take my leave. I hope your family does well," her lips brace a comforting smile as she reaches out to rest her paw upon his a moment. This would be a moment she'd never forget. "If I ever need help, I'll make sure to seek you out," Celeste nods before looking over to the cat. Letting out a soft tsk under her breath, she takes her stand and shakes out the dust from her coat. Her companion brushes his cheek against Vidarr's chest before begrudgingly moving to stand by Celeste. "Sayonara Vidarr, till next time," she smiles before leaping down from the rock and moving off into the dark forest. -exit-

A wall has gone up, and he's gotten too close. Viðarr can feel it, though such things usually elude him. This is something that... well, something he knows. He has sisters, after all. There are complicated family relationships at work, as always. The nornir would weave them all together in mysterious ways. Coming and going within a strange world, they all were. In particular, Urðr's ways could be the most mysterious of all. It only made sense. Fate herself... ah. Fate herself. That should tell all anyone needed to know on the subject.

They were amazing, and he could attest to that. The fact that they'd all made it here in one piece, hell, they were living proof. Celeste speaks of someone she needs to see, and the shadow nods softly. It was getting dark, but as long as she had somewhere safe to go, that was enough for him. He offers a soft smile, relaxing back to his spot on the broad marble beneath him. Yes, that was fair enough. "Do not hesitate, even if it's just for a story and a meal." Viðarr holds the concern of someone beyond his years. He's road-worn, and not wanting anyone else to feel that way.

Her touch is gentle, and one that surprises him. The shadow isn't terribly accustomed to contact with others, at least outside of combat situations. Still, he's warm in the way that he looks to the girl. "Thank you, Celeste." She was sincere, and it was something that he appreciated dearly. "Be safe, and be well." The words came forth as Viðarr offered the cat one last pat about the head. Yes, they absolutely needed cats around camp. Viðarr watches the girl until she's disappeared entirely into the low light of the evening.

"Viðarr"