"The walk is a bit long, but not bad," he assured Wight with a smile. Really, Víðarr was fond of long walks. They helped him think. Thinking... being left alone with his own thoughts. Well, he was grateful that he had company for the walk back. The shadow would spend much of that walk close in stride with the woman, doing his best to shield her from the bitterness in the breezes as they came and went. Gods, it really was brutal this far north, despite the summer. That was okay. They would be just fine. The lands thawed as they moved to the south, though Víðarr kept checking in with his new companion. Home. Her smile hadn't reached her eyes, but she was trying. The shadow wouldn't pry into her sadness. Maybe he was polite, maybe he just... didn't know how. Would she even want to share her thoughts? No. It would be rude to ask. Getting deep with a stranger wasn't on his to-do list, today or... well, really any other day. Still, maybe she'd open up to his sisters, if she wanted. Iðunn was a good listener. Sanngriðr, for all of her prickly nature, could be as well. That, and it wasn't like Wight had to talk just... if she wanted to. Víðarr just hopes she's comfortable for as long as she decided to stay. As dusk fell, they crossed into camp. Víðarr called softly for his family. "Here, the fire," his smile was warm, gesturing to the fire that was already crackling in the pit. Around it, there were a few comfortable furs they'd harvested since their arrival. Carefully, he dragged over some of the fresh meat that had been stacked within their small encampment as well. "Eat, please. The others will come," maybe not quite the words that he would have wanted, but they'd do Víðarr well enough. He picks up a sheep's leg for himself and sinks his teeth into it... not the best meal, but gods he was hungry. VÍÐARR Ragnarök awaits.

Sanngriðr had seen their approach, and it struck her as maybe a bit strange. Her brother wasn't alone. By his side walked a girl-- her colors were bright and knit together in a way that struck her. The only other individual she'd seen with colors like that... Barghest. She was rather fond of him. For now, the valkyrie would withhold judgement on the stranger by her brother's side. Another stray that he'd take in, but Sanngriðr understood that it was important to him. The gods that walked among them would often come in the shape of travelers, after all. For as cynical as she could be, the valkyrie understood, and she'd embrace it. There was always spot for another around their fire, and they'd trust the intentions of an individual to be good unless they had a reason not to. "Tja bror," the words were maybe a bit gruff, but not unfriendly as she closed the space between. She'd pulled a haunch of stag for herself, finding the sheep to be more than a bit gamey. Whatever made Iðunn happy, they'd catch. There were more useful bits of the sheep, and if she really wanted, Sanngriðr could catch something for herself. For now, she'd enjoy the venison while it was fresh. It would likely be much less appealing after it had been dried and tucked away for the winter. For now, she could afford to be a bit picky. Across from her brother, the valkyrie set herself down around the fire where it crackled merrily in the pit. "Hello," she greeted the stranger. Her tone is a careful, well-composed neutrality. "I'm Sanngriðr, Víðarr's older sister." Her grasp of the common language is a bit more practiced, and she pauses less overall when speaking. More confidence shines through in the way the valkyrie speaks. Her gaze drops to her dinner, and she takes careful bites, not wanting to watch the stranger too carefully. No, couldn't make her uncomfortable. That would be impolite, after all. SANNGRIÐR Kom och hata mig.

Wight offers Víðarr a smile as he speaks of the walk ahead. Her legs move her onward, thoughts focusing on the task at hand, all while she tries to stick close to shadow’s large frame. He is extremely kind and does his best to shield her from brunt of the bitter breezes. As they cross the snowy landscape, the starry pelted woman admits, “It is beautiful up here. There is something… peaceful about a world covered in snow.” As she speaks, her duel-toned eyes scan the landscape and she adds, “I might have to come back and explore more. But, I will bring lots of furs with me!” A chuckle escapes as she glances to the dark shadow, wondering how he feels of the icy, covered landscape.

The walk helps to thaw the cold wolf’s joints and, the further the walk, the faster Wight can move. Snow starts to melt and a subtle changes in warmth can be felt as they move further and further south. Wight stays silent as they move, hesitant to start a conversation but quick to reply kindly every time the inky wolf checks in with her. Dusk falls as the pair cross into camp, Víðarr calling for his family while steering her toward the fire. The warmth of his smile and the fire have the starry woman melting into one of the thick bundles of furs, a small groan of pleasure escaping as she sinks down to her belly. The heat of the fire feels amazing and she basks in the heat that radiates from it. When Víðarr drags over meat, silvery eyes widen with wonder at the sheer amount of food he has.

Stomach growls it’s hunger as she reaches for a chunk of deer, saliva dripping from her maw as she pulls it close. Before Wight starts tearing into the meat, she casts her gaze to the shadow, offering him a gentle smile as she says, “Thank you Víðarr.” With her gratitude given, Wight reaches down and takes a huge bite from her food. Ears perk up at the sound of a gruff, but not rude, voice. Turning her head, mouth working the meat, Wight watches a female wolf approach, her dark coat matching that of Víðarr’s. Eyes glance from her to Víðarr, noting that, where he has tones of white, this woman has reds.

The woman sets her down across from Víðarr, giving a greeting and introducing herself as Sanngriðr. The hungry wolf works to chew faster and swallow the meat to clear her mouth, not wanting to make too much of a bad first impression, before she says, “Hello Sanngriðr. My name is Wight. Your brother found me mostly frozen up north.” Wight gives a short chuckle before returning to her chunk of food, the need to eat overriding her manners for the moment.


"Wight Baade"

~Mature warning for minor drug use

It was only as dusk began to fall that Iðunn made her way back to camp, highly self-medicated on some of her cannabis stores, as well as some fly agaric mushrooms she had found recently. The combination of the two had left her only vaguely aware of her surroundings, but at least the damned piercing pain in her upper jaw had subsided enough that she could even considering getting something to eat. Her already thin frame had seemed to get just a bit more gaunt as chewing was almost too painful some days, but she could begin to feel hunger stirring in her stomach. A welcome side effect from the cannabis she had ingested.

She almost dragged her feet as she walked back to camp, the fiery spot in the distance acting as a homing beacon in her almost trance-like state, and it was only after she had slumped down beside Sanngriðr that she realised there was a stranger among them. Her icy blue gaze raised up from where her chin was pressed onto her forepaws to look up at the blue and red hued woman, the only concrete thought in her mind being that she looked like a female version of Barghest with her interesting coat pattern.

A single ear twitched as she stared for a few moments, head free of any further thoughts as she became further relaxed beside her cousin, almost fully leaning against the other woman. If both Sanngriðr and Víðarr had deemed this strange woman to be of no threat and allowed to sit by their camp and eat their food, then she'd heed her no mind. If she had been of more sound mind Iðunn might have probed further, but as such she was far more interested in whatever food there was available to eat.

She gently snagged a hunk of Dall sheep meat, settling it between her forepaws, before half-mumbling out a question to the woman, but in her elevated state of mind not realising she had said the words in Swedish rather than the common tongue of these lands. "You out here alone?" Without even waiting for an answer she bit into the meat, relishing in her ability to tear a piece off and chew it almost without any pain, the worst of it having been dulled to a deep throb that was more than manageable.

Day had turned into weeks. Bodin felt as though he was acclimating well enough to the band. He was fairly easy going and seemed to get along with each wolf in the group, though he wouldn't say that he was entirely familiar with them yet. They'd all fallen into a comfortable enough relationship together and that was all that he could ask for so early in the game. Every wolf pulled their weight and Bodin did so by hunting. It was one of the things that he was inherently good at. It was rare for the galactic brute to return to camp with an empty maw. He was usually carting some dead creature to add to the food stores. When he wasn't hunting, Bodin tried to spend time with Sanngridr, quite enjoying the dark woman's company. There was an oddness about her that he appreciated. A sort of dangerous beauty. He couldn't quite trust her, but he couldn't not trust her, as strange as that sounded. He hoped that whatever electric chemistry that he'd felt between them would grow. He very much wanted to take the woman to mate even this early in the game. Strolling into camp, the blue and red swirled giant was more than a little surprised to see some of the group clustered around someone new. As he drew near, the fat rabbit that he'd had clutched between his jaws fell to the earth as his maw hung open in disbelief. "Tove?" soft baritones whispered incredulously. Never had he expected to see his sister again. In Bodin's mind, they were all dead. She had been dead. Now here she was, alive and well, though looking a little thin. The behemoths brows drew together, trying to fight the tumultuous emotions warring within him. He didn't step closer, not yet. Not until he could mentally come to terms with Tove rising from the dead. "Speech"

He's attentive as she speaks listening to the words as they come. Viðarr can't help himself-- the company is much appreciated, especially bearing in mind that the bulk of his company had been family. "I join you, dangerous to come this far north alone," the words are colored with his accent, but a kindness shines as he speaks. Protective... protective of travelers, protective of family, protective of those who (in his mind) benefit from it. She was out here, and she was alone. It's dangerous. Her gratitude comes softly, and Viðarr is gentle about it. A dip of his head, a smile.

As they eat, more of his sisters melt in from the dusk. The valkyrie first, then the priestess. Iðunn was clearly under the influence of... something, though what exactly was beyond the shadow. His meal hides the humor that dances in his gaze, for the most part. "Tougher than she looks," he confirms. Tove had been out there alone, and she'd survived. That alone was a feat. The northernmost territories were chilly, bitterly so, and she wasn't particularly equipped for it. Viðarr was impressed, genuinely, that she'd made it as long as she had alone.

It's Bodin's reaction that makes the shadow tense. There was no telling what exactly his intent was, and this stranger had been invited into their camp under his protection. Viðarr was wound tightly, ready to spring just in case. By the way Bodin's jaw hit he floor, there was shock but... but what kind of shock? Extremely still, tense, watching. Waiting. If he could have looked straight through Bodin, Viðarr would have.

"Viðarr"

Tove she gives her name. Sanngriðr thinks it through for a moment and nods once. It's with interest that she studies the stranger, her pelt spun of the cosmos itself. How strange. Red skies at night or however it went in the common tongue. Hm, close enough. The priestess staggers towards them, and Sanngriðr offers an appraising look. Iðunn lolled against her side, and the valkyrie rolled her eyes without concealing her smile. Fucking dork, there was no telling exactly what she'd consumed but whatever. Such was life around here.

"Don't be rude," Sanngriðr chastised for just a moment. The pair spoke in their mother tongue, something that would exclude this Tove. How would they learn what they could from her if she was alienated? It was something to keep in mind, at least for the valkyrie. Strangers would bring new knowledge, would bring news of a world they didn't understand yet. It was important that they feel like they were welcome in their midst. Still, she's enjoying dinner too much to really push it.

Before she can speak again, Bodin returns to camp. His reaction to the stranger makes her heart squeeze... why did it feel like this? What was the strange pang that bloomed within her ribs. It's her brother's protective reaction as well that reminder her she should be... careful. Yes, she should be careful in moments like this. They all need to be careful in moments like this... then why is the first feeling to bubble to the surface for Sanngriðr jealousy? What was the relation? How did they... how did they know each other? The valkyrie watched with baited breath.

"Sanngriðr"