Was he... getting... taller? Víðarr wasn't really sure. It certainly felt like he stood farther above his siblings, his family, than he did previously. There was no use trying to measure him beside the valkyrie-- she'd only get salty with him and really, he didn't want that. It was strange to him. Strange. Gods, everything was so strange. Still, even if he was growing, it was certainly a gift. They seemed to smile upon him, and he could only smile back in thanks. Really, the man was grateful for it. He had to live a life that they'd be proud of him for. Víðarr had to, especially now that they'd chosen him. Head high. Perfectly relaxed. And relaxed he was, as he moved to the edge of the Dreamer's Col. An area that was certainly dangerous, if he wasn't being careful enough. He needed to check in with the man of many colors, the one who said he lived here. It certainly smelled like the Gneiss man came from here... both his scent and that of this place were mixed together. Yes, it was certain that the shadow was in the right place. There were some questions in his mind, and thoughts as well. If at all possible, Víðarr even had an order to place. Finding him would be the first order of business. It was an unseasonably warm mid-morning that brought him to the mouth of one of the caves. How was he going to navigate this one? Maybe it was best to leave some sort of note or calling card, and ask him to come down and see Víðarr when he returned. It's not until this very moment that Víðarr realizes that he can't write the common tongue, despite being able to speak it at least passably. Shit. Okay, well, at least he'd take a little more time looking for Bismuth before leaving. That would be good. The order could wait, of course. Víðarr wasn't entirely sure how he'd afford it either, but that was okay. An arm ring for each of his family, each of the original few that would stand by his side. A circle, like he'd explained to Celeste. They would forever be held together. VÍÐARR Ragnarök awaits.

Bismuth had woken up early to work more on his latest piece of work made up of loops of metal with very thin pieces of hide that could be braided into fur. It was an accessory of sort that small items such as feathers could be attached to the metal loops, but it would be open for the wolf to decide what they wanted to add to it. Or they could keep it as a small chain of metal loops to dangle from their fur if they so wished. Heliodor chittered off to the side, occasionally grabbing the end of the leather hide to help as Bismuth wrapped and braided it clumsily and slowly so it would be secured tightly to the initial metal loop. Time passed seemingly in the blink of an eye, and with an ache in her neck Bismuth decided it was time for a break to stretch his legs and get a bit of sunlight. Heliodor flapped along ahead as he began to make his way through the cave system, appearing out into the harsh sunlight with squinted eyes. Once his gaze adjusted to the change in brightness he saw the familiar dark form of Víðarr down below at the entrance of one of the lower caves. "Welcome!" He called down to the wolf, already beginning the descent down the steep incline with practiced ease, even as small pebbles tumbled down from where he stepped. He stopped just above the other wolf, tail wagging happily behind him. "What brings you to the mountain today?"

It seemed he wouldn't have to wait long at all-- excellent! The colorful man appeared from the caves in the mountains, squinting and blinking against the sun. Víðarr let out a short, friendly sound... somewhere between a bark and a chuff, but happy to see the man none the less. "Mister Gneiss!" A greeting and a warm, brassy chuckle. Truly, Víðarr was in a good mood today. His talk wagged at his haunches. He moved to close the gap between them, stopping short of the avalanche of pebbles that came skittering down with the craftsman. "I come to make a... hm," it took Víðarr a moment to process, trailing off while he reformulated his words. "I would like to be buying some things, if you can make them." There we go, good enough. "They go around the upper arm, like this," the shadow gestured to the place where his leg met his body, drawing the band in his own fur with his nose. "Open enough to be able to put on, but stays put in fights." He'd need more words to explain what he'd like, but words were hard, and he wasn't accustomed to the common tongue. Not yet, at least. "They are metal, but they are... art." He nodded once, feeling that he'd explained himself at least reasonably. He looked expectantly at Bismuth, hoping that he'd made enough sense. Víðarr could hope, right? Surely. It would be good enough, for now. VÍÐARR Ragnarök awaits.

The air was strangely warm today, likely another coastal breeze bringing the warm air up from the lower altitudes. The titanic brute was wandering up from a store room near the common areas with a load of raw clay that needed to be worked and shaped. The lump of soft sediment was wrapped in an old hide, and carried with frightening ease by the corners of said hide clenched between their massive jaws. Were they fully intending to steal some of the material once it was ready to be used? Absolutely. They were getting pretty damned good at shaping bowls and cups from the clay, and firing it in the kiln was an effortless task. A lot of the stone they primarily worked was heat treated after shaping, so adding a few air-dried clay pieces into the batch was easy enough. However, as they stepped into their den the monochrome wolf noticed that Bismuth was talking to someone unfamiliar. A stranger had wandered all the way up here, and they seemed.. familiar with each other? Friendly, at least. Dropping the heavy pile near the entrance of their den, the brute lumbered down the crisscrossing trails that laced the slopes around the clan's home. Curiosity sparkled in gunmetal grey eyes as they closed in, noting that the dark furred male talking to their friend was even larger than they were- a rarity, even around here. They caught the tail end of the other brute's request, something about metal and art? Rumbling quietly in their chest, they peered down at the pair from one of the higher trails. "Who's your friend, Bis?" they called down, a lopsided grin toying at their broad features in tandem with a gentle wagging of their tail.