All things considered, it had been a successful trip. Víðarr's only complaints involved the weather, but when did they not? Past the Fjord, it was only going to get worse until they hit the mountain. That's why he lingers, he takes the last day of peace with his wife and his children. The mountain had been in capable hands during his brief absence, after all. Trust keeps them alive on the mountain. Each piece fit into place, only serving to spur the viking king on harder. His children were growing, becoming bolder and tougher by the day. The current litter playing nearby, shrieking, laughing as they splashed in the Fjord. Erik lurking nearby, though Víðarr was never too sure where he'd faded off to. Morganna wouldn't be far behind, the fuss over her mushrooms still fresh on the shadow's mind. Thoughts of them make him feel eternal. Invincible. His fate long determined, and he was doing right by that fate. Summer sun shining down around his shoulders, he rests on a broad, flat rock. While Víðarr pretends he's not watching them, his awareness is keen. They could have their secrets, say what they would, largely do what they would-- but none would be stolen away from him. He'd worked too hard. He'd come too far. None would be taken by strangers or the cold hand of the sea, not if he could help it. How many prayers had he said, begging Freyja that he not be his father's son. As good as he could for as long as he could be. Good looks like different things to different men. Perched on his rock, watching his children splash in the Fjord in the distance, the viking king knows only that today is a very, very good day. "Víðarr"

Beauregard had gone north, to replace some of the herbs that were needed for Paradise. The raiders had taken many of their crafting supplies, the herbs, and yet… Beau could not be angry. Not really. Packs had conflicts, and though there had been bloodshed, none of his wolves had been seriously harmed… and he was proud of Norad for standing together against them. What the man hadn’t expected, however, was to catch the scent of the shadow man on his way into Boreas. Curiosity would pull him in that direction. The man was perched on a walk, his children, Beau assumed, playing in the water nearby. Beauregard kept a respectful distance away, knowing how a father might be protective. An amused smile crossed his lips though, and he called out to the other alpha. “A good show from your fighters. Though next time I do hope Norad will give you more of a challenge.” His words were friendly enough, though there was an edge of light challenge to them as well. After all, the Artifex had won against the other alpha and his following opponent. "Speech," 'Thought.'

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Hovering in his periphery, Víðarr can see the man. Bristling at the sight of him, head picking up. Tense, though his hackles don't lift along his spine. Not yet. Fuck around and find out written all over his face, all over his body. At least Beauregard seemed to be respecting the distance, respecting the presence of the children. Not eager to invite the man any closer, Víðarr rose fluidly to his feet. Erik herded the pups back towards camp, Víðarr stepping to move the discussion with Beauregard in the opposite direction. Rapidly closing ranks. Carefully composed neutrality, it's the best Víðarr can do. He wasn't trying to cause a scene. "I hope so too. The walk is long." His posture relaxes to something a bit more lazy, a bit less bothered, once the children are safely squirreled away. The shadow's gaze is unblinking, curious, as he gazes at Beauregard. Something like looking through him. "Víðarr"