Predators. In an area with this many resources, it only seemed correct that there was an abundance of predators. While not necessarily on high alert, he was still distinctly uncomfortable. Víðarr thought of the lynx that had attacked his sister, and he could only wonder if there were more like it. The crystals that riddled the thing… it wasn’t okay. The predator hadn’t been okay. Even if whatever was out there wasn’t infected, it was maybe the wakeup call he needed. They needed to be prepared, come what may. So he would prepare. The best defense is a good offense. Víðarr had spent the morning cleaning away the remnants of their last meal, some sort of goat that he’d managed to catch… not bad, really. He’d set about scraping the hide as well, but this one needed to set for… well, it needed to set for fuck if he knew how long. His sister knew better. He swapped the hide of the goat for the one that she’d set to tanning a few days ago. There would still be plenty of this one when he was done. Víðarr hunkered down in the shade beside the wall, considering for a long moment. His people were berserkers, armored with nothing more than their faith (and a whole lot of drugs, but that was beside the point.) There were the axes, but Víðarr considered the fact that he had no way to fashion the head of such a weapon. Still, in considering what he could easily wear, came the idea of gauntlets. If he could fashion, find, or trade for spikes that would be even better. The shadow could even go looking for the antlers that the reindeer had dropped, and carve spikes from those. Carefully, he began measuring the sheet of leather to fit his paws, and considered how he’d piece it together in scales. Víðarr marked the boundaries with a bit of spit as he went… good enough. VÍÐARR Ragnarök awaits.

WC: 327

He roughly tied the make-shift rucksack to his side, grumbling under his breath as he wrangled with the leather strips in his clumsy jaws. His favourite satchel had caught on a sharp rock and completely torn in two not a few days ago, leaving him with now pretty much useless pieces of leather. So instead of heading out to make proper trades with the wolves nearby, he needed to find suitable hides in which to tan to create more sturdy bags in order to hold all his things. And today he was bringing with him some shiny rocks and gems to maybe even tempt a few of the more sentient birds around to lead him to a fresh carcass he could skin. With a sharp sigh he let Heliodor flutter down to rest on his shoulder as he began to descend from the mountain, his steps sure and steady from lifelong practice of scaling steep cliffs. Bismuth found his way down with no trouble, and after a quick glance around headed due east, looking up at the sky for signs of any birds nearby, and scenting the air in case he came upon a carcass with no assistance. It didn't take him long to come across a particularly large wolf laid down next to the ruins of the wall, a thick hide of leather in between his paws. Bismuth stopped a fair distance away, lowering his head as he woofed lowly to the other wolf, tail waving slowly by his hocks. He didn't want to interrupt what the wolf was doing, but he'd worked a fair amount with hides himself, and perhaps he could offer some assistance. "Hello there! Do you require any assistance today... sir?" He tacked on the honourific at the end after an awkward moment of silence, swiveling his ears forward as he waited for a response. WC: 310 (637/1500)

Right, gauntlets. If he swung about with his paws, he would be able to catch any predator with the spikes. They'd rip and tear, and they could do enough damage to give him the extra edge he needed. Gauntlets... bracers? Was that more correct for what he was picturing? The shadow grumbled to himself, doing his best not to get too wrapped up in the semantics of it all. Smack bitches around. Make money... money? Profit. Sure, profit in some way, shape, or form. He smirked to himself as he worked, setting about cutting the pieces he'd need. They'd be scaled together, and tied tight around his lower legs. That seemed like the best bet, because Víðarr could make sure he got the absolute closest fit. The closer the fit, the less likely he was to get anything caught under them. Stones, pebbles, vines, all could cause uncomfortable rubbing that would turn into blistering. In combat, it could get even more dangerous-- claws or teeth of a predator that would cause a wrenching motion, and left the possibility of spiral fractures. That would suck. No, he'd fit each with a strap that would bind as close as possible, like a second skin. If he was going to add spikes to these, then he'd need to line it with something soft, too. This was already becoming a more involved process than Víðarr initially anticipated, but at least it would keep him busy. The busier he was, the less he'd be pestering his sisters, so it was likely for the best. Softly, he hummed to himself as he worked, using the first set as a template for the second, and doing his best to fit them in exactly the same size. When all was said and done, he'd have Sanngriðr help him wax coat the entire thing to harden it. They'd... shit that meant they'd have to go find bees and rob them of their wax. Maybe not ideal, but the shadow would do what he had to, or at least what he felt was best. Though he'd been lost in his own thoughts for a long moment, a woof pulled him down. The creature was loudly colored, but Víðarr did his best not to look too surprised. It was more the offer of help, and the added use of the word sir that drove his eyebrows up. He regarded the other man carefully, curiously. While he had things under control (okay, fiercely independent as ever, Víðarr thought he had things under control), the stranger's offer had him intrigued. "What kind of assistance?" Careful words in a tongue that still felt strange within his mouth. When was it ever going to get easier? VÍÐARR Ragnarök awaits.

WC: 451
Total: 1,088

He could almost feel the other wolf trying not to ogle him, and even after an entire lifetime of being watches with a close eye due to his odd colouring, he still felt an sense of awkwardness and shyness flood through his body. Perhaps he should craft himself a cloak in order to hide all the bright colours of his coat, as at least from the neck up he was somewhat ordinary looking, apart from the near complete blackness of his eyes. But at least the stranger wasn't straight up staring at him, which made him feel a bit more at ease. The accent the wolf spoke with had Bismuth canting his muzzle to the side, brows furrowing as he tried to place it, then shrugging almost imperceptibly as he decided it really didn't matter. He could understand that wolf well enough to hold a conversation. "I've worked a bit with leather before, and assisted with my mentors when they crafted complex bags... uh armours, and even cloaks," he said with practiced ease, only stuttering a bit in the middle of the sentence and needing to clear his throat. He then stepped closer, eyeing the smaller pieces of leather that had been cut into similar-sized shapes, curious as to what exactly the wolf was trying to make. "I could assist you in making it, or I can even trade you some shiny but strong gemstone rocks to make it more appealing to look at?" They would also serve to cover up any accidental mishaps that occasionally occurred while crafting, and make it more unique to the wolf that crafted the item. He shrugged the rucksack off to the ground and opened the flap to reveal the mix of silvery and black-toned rocks, all different sizes with some more flat and pointy than others, to show the other wolf what he had to offer. WC: 313 (1401/1500)

A shy creature, that was fair. Víðarr watched his face as if trying to look through the stranger entirely. If he could look through the man, then he'd be able to see the motivations that rest below. He offered help... why? A stranger here... was he alone? The shadow wouldn't drop his guard, not for anything, but he didn't find the company anything other than agreeable. As he spoke, he watched the other man's attempt to process his words. That was also fair-- his accent could be a bit difficult sometimes. Good enough. When it came to being social, he'd rest on good enough. When it came to crafting, though, Víðarr was all in. Attention to detail, and the best craftsmanship he could muster. Granted, it was all pretty new to him. Hearing the stranger offer to lend a hand and have him actually know what he was doing... a tempting offer. He'd apprenticed, even. "Mmm," it was an affirmative murmur, his tail thumping once, twice, three times on the ground behind him. This could be good, quite good indeed. Ah, he'd come as a trader. That made more sense. He'd trade his services, and his goods-- a reasonable offer, depending on what he was looking for in return. This was an honest pursuit, and it set the shadow at ease. A bit more warmth edged into his gaze. "Rocks appropriate for damaging?" His eyebrows lifted. Ah shit, those words... weren't quite right. Víðarr's brow furrowed, sighing before trying to think through how he'd explain himself. "Building gauntlets, bracers, for my front legs." There we go, that was a start. "I want to make them spiked." He gestured to each of the leather plates, and then looked to the man before him. "I can offer preserved food and leather, in trade now. If you are nearby, and willing to wait until the next time we hunt, I can offer seal furs." It was best to know what the stranger would like before making any sort of deal he couldn't make good on, or getting his hopes up. "I am Víðarr Trygg." Right, if he was asking the man to wait on the rest of any goods, the least the shadow could do was introduce himself. The best thing a man has is his word, and his name. VÍÐARR Ragnarök awaits.

WC: 387
total: over 1500

The other wolf seemed receptive to his offer to help, and that brought out a bit more sureness in Bismuth's character, standing just a tad taller and feeling more at ease.If he thought more about the skills to work with leather, and the art of making a good trade deal, he could shoo away any shyness about conversing with a complete stranger. It was good practice at least, and hopefully by the time he met up with a few of the leaders from the packs he would appear more confidant than he felt. His head canted to the side at the strange question, a soft noise of unsureness slipping from his maw, but it quickly changed to a noise of agreement as the other wolf continued to explain. Oh yes, they would absolutely be tough enough to deal some damage without cracking. It was not the use he had been intending for the gemstone rocks, but if it was what the wolf wanted to use them for then he would certainly supply them. "Ah yes, certainly! If sharpened they can cut much better than our claws." Bismuth brightened considerably as the wolf offered up items of his own as part of a trade deal between them, and they were certainly favourable. Food was always a valued commodity, but it was truly the leather he sought after to make a new proper bag to carry all his items. And seal furs would be excellent to fashion into a cloak for when the colder months arrived. "The food and leather will be most excellent sir! I live in the neighbouring mountains, so I can always stop by to pick up a seal fur or two when I pass through again." Okay, maybe he was a bit too excitable, but to be fair he was still pretty new to this whole bartering thing. Snowflake was much better at it than him. He picked out a couple of the sharper looking rocks, a few silver and a few black ones, enough to make a suitable number of spikes with some spares just in case, and laid them out on the ground for Víðarr to peruse. "Bismuth Gneiss," he said while setting the rocks down, making sure they were all in good condition and not cracked before sitting back with a happy expression. "Do you find these to your liking?"

As the brightly colored man tipped his head to the side, Víðarr felt the need to explain. He didn't want to sound like he was out of his mind, trying to stab others with his bracers. And to hear this man was a neighbor... yes. It would be best that he didn't think the family next door was home to vicious creatures, murderers, and the like. "Prey is good now," he began, assembling the words as best he could. "Which means more predators." Viðarr would arm himself against the predators. He had a family to protect, after all. It wasn't that they couldn't protect themselves, either. No, they'd do a good job, but Viðarr was in a position where he could protect and provide for them, and he would do so gladly.

"How to sharpen?" His gaze was curious on the trader. Back home they'd used whetstones to keep axes and knives sharp, but he couldn't imagine it would be quite the same with the glimmering black rocks. It seemed, as well, that this man found the trade offer amenable. He didn't seem to be a threat of any sort, and there would be no harm in bringing him to camp. Truly, the threat alone was that Sanngriðr would likely try to rope him into playing hnefatafl... a thought that made the shadow smile softly. There was something so normal about it. Maybe they were really settling in here. They could relax, they could be comfortable enough to play games and set camp. It was a thought that set him more at peace than he had been in ages.

"Yes," though his words were short, Viðarr's tone was warm. A charming smile played over his features as he spoke to the man, this Bismuth Gneiss. "Come with me, I can show you leather and food now?" He'd taken to this particular spot to work on his project simply because the light was better, but the sun had moved and the trees cast shadows on his workspace. He could bring this Gneiss man to camp, and make the trade easily. For the resources and the insight, he'd gladly pay-- it was only fair. That, and Sanngriðr wouldn't have his ass for trading away a chunk of leather that had been saved for something else.

Easily, the hulking man pulled himself to his feet. What he lacked in grace, Viðarr made up for in sheer, raw power. He pulled the sheet of leather over his shoulder to carry it more easily, and took the carefully cut out pieces in gentle teeth. "Komsi komsi," he turned to lead the way around the corner, and the short distance to where he'd been camping with his family.

"Viðarr"

translation notes-- komsi komsi is a very friendly, very casual version of "come come"

He listened as the larger wolf explained the reasoning behind making the gauntlets, and it seemed like a sound reason. As a trader he didn't worry too much about what the items he traded were going to be used for, as once they left his possession it was up to the other wolf to decide what to do with them. But using them for protection against predators did sound like a good idea... perhaps he needed to craft something like that himself. Just in case. He wasn't much of a fighter, but if push came to shove he'd much rather have access to something that'd help him out rather than needing to use his own blunt claws which were pretty ineffective. Víðarr then asked him how to sharpen the gemstone rocks, and Bismuth smiled at him, tail tapping excitedly. He'd worked with rocks all his life, and was glad to share his knowledge to someone who wanted to know. "You need a good grinding or sharpening stone first. The best types of stones are those with metamorphic qualities such as quartz and marble, or sedimentary qualities like sandstone or shale," he said slowly, trying not to overwhelm the other wolf. "It works best if you have two of those to make a flat but sharp edge on one, and from there you scrape it along the rock you want to sharpen slowly with slow strokes until it becomes your desired sharpness and shape." He then searched around in his make-shift rucksack for a quartz stone that had a flat edge, picking it out to show it to Víðarr. "If you don't have one you're more than welcome to take this one, I always have spares around." One could never have too many sharpening and grinding stones for all occasions. Some were smoother, others were of a rougher material if he needed to easy grind away large portions, so it was no trouble at all to give this one away. When the other wolf offered to show him the items he'd be trading, Bismuth swiftly packed up all the items into the rucksack and heaved it over his shoulder again, taking a few moments to tie it before following. Heliodor flew up into the air to slowly follow behind the two wolves, keeping an eye out for any of the predators that the other wolf had mentioned. The short foreign phrase flew over Bismuth's head, but it certainly had to mean something along the lines of 'this way', and so he walked beside Víðarr, in step with the much larger wolf even if it meant he had to hurry his steps just a tad to keep up. "Have you lived here long?"