Following his return to the mountain, the viking king has become sour and reclusive. Audra's passing has caught him by surprise. He is coping, moving on, in all the ways he knows how. Drinking. Praying. Planning. Planning things after their coming expansion, beyond what had been in Víðarr's eye for so long. Politics had never been his strong suit, but he doesn't need it to be. Thinking like a warlord would get him farther than thinking like a politician, especially with his nature. Things also in his nature? Drinking. Seeking comfort in solitude, in the gods, and in those he holds near. Maybe that's why Víðarr clutches the skin of mead tightly, watching the reindeer, spread out silently on a low boulder. Taking them in, resting. Knowing that if there was anywhere Kiela would just stumble upon him, it was here. For now, he would watch the herd and drink. For him, there's peace enough in that. "Víðarr"

It's been awhile since she'd gotten to spend time with Víðarr, but that fact wasn't something that distressed her. He was a busy man and she knew they'd come into each other's orbits soon enough, as they always did. She'd been enjoying getting to know the other wolves in Heiðinn lately anyway, finding herself drawn to Valtiel in particular. There was no shortage of company for her these days, not that the Jarvela really needed much in that department in the first place.

Today her mind was on her reindeer. They had been thriving lately and for that she was infinitely thankful. Making her way to Heiðinn's flattest territory, she wasn't surprised to find that she wasn't the only one with them in mind. Víðarr's scent here was strong and she was drawn to it, moving to close the distance between them without any hurry. When she found him, she moved to settle next to him, letting her nose touch his shoulder lightly. "Enjoying the view?" It was lovely - how could he not be?

He doesn't have to wait for long-- Víðarr didn't expect that he would. Dark tail flickering at his haunches as Kiela's scent is picked up by the friendly breeze, and then as she melts into view. There was no need to rush. There had never been. Instead, he remains stretched out regally, sipping his mead and enjoying the peace.

Víðarr has found that Kiela is among the few who don't disturb that peace-- adding to it, instead. A short list, prized company. His muzzle is gentle as it brushes fondly against her cheek, a greeting. Wordlessly offering to share his mead, as they sit in the warmth of the sun.

"Even more, now." A smile plays across his face, one he doesn't bother to conceal. "You are well?" Víðarr's tone is gentle, the care genuine. Gaze gentle, where it rests on her face.
"Víðarr"

Kiela was not a hard woman to find, always drawn to her reindeer more than anything else in this life. If anything Kiela was predictable, despite her nature; she was a constant, and she hoped today in particular that brought Víðarr some comfort amidst whatever he had going on. His mood was not impossible to discern, but she wasn't going to make assumptions unless he told her explicitly that something was weighing heavily on him.

The greeting was clearly well taken, and she paused as he brushed his muzzle against her cheek, savoring his touch while it lasted. Hesitatingly for a moment, she finally accepted his offer. Drink wasn't generally her thing - she much preferred to be clea-rminded at all times - but she could make a small exception. She drank, savoring the taste for a moment. "Well enough," she answered him warmly, taking a moment to lay her eyes on her reindeer in the distance before redirecting her attention to him. "Your family's trip south - how did it go?" She knew he'd taken his children with him, but beyond that she didn't know about the trip's purpose or how it had gone.

Constant and reliable, like the change of the seasons and the steady drum of time. Víðarr is grateful that she's here, and grateful to have her close. Though she hesitates for a moment at the offered drink, she does accept. Víðarr offers a soft smile with it, settling comfortably on his side. His gaze follows hers, both to the herd and back. Víðarr is comforted by how ever-present, how watchful she is. The question of the trip doesn't surprise him, and his tail gives a gentle wag against their stone perch. "Good, despite the rain. The pups got to play with others their age, and ah... politics." Víðarr gave a dismissive gesture with his paw. Things had gone well, all things considered. Another long sip from the bottle, a heaved sigh. "I had a funeral to attend in the Hallows, which delayed my return a few days. It was... unexpected." Víðarr sighed softly, gaze slipping back out over the Steppe. Audra's loss still fresh, still surreal. Reminded that he's getting old, the viking king doesn't know quite how to feel. His heart is heavy. "Víðarr"

Maybe the mead wasn't such a bad idea. It wouldn't hurt being a little less... in her head, at least for a little while. Kiela is the type to think over everything carefully, though she supposed if there were anyone she could truly let her guard down around it would be Víðarr. A wolf she trusts more than anyone else in this life other than herself.

"Politics. I'm not sure how you stand them," Kiela commented, conversational - inputting her dislike of such things without trying to be combative. Different wolves cared for different things. Politics were not something that she cared for, though she understood the importance of such things, especially for a wolf like Víðarr. "I'm glad the trip went well though." It was no doubt a beneficial experience for his children, to see how wolves in a different land might live, to see their different cultures. All importance experiences for growing minds.

He spoke again though, sharing a less than ideal part of his trip - a funeral. Kiela nodded somberly in understanding. "Someone close to you?" It seemed, at the very least, that the wolf had not been a stranger, but she wanted to know from him rather than assume. Talking about death was not something she felt was taboo, though she wasn't so sure if Víðarr felt the same.

The chuckle that comes over the man is hearty, warm. "I remind myself of the why, it's the only way to stand them." The viking king lets go a gentle sigh, chin resting against the broad, warm stone. His tail flicks at his haunches, the fondness on his face something he doesn't bother hiding. Allowing himself to relax, a friendship among his most precious. The why... it's not just the children, and he wants that much to be clear. They'd all worked hard to get this far, and he was going to do his damndest to make sure they could enjoy it.

"Her name was Audra, I met her traveling. It was her guidance that helped me in some of my early navigation here." There was divinity in all of them, but it seemed Audra had gotten a little extra. Though the loss is heavy in his chest, death is as much a part of life as any of them. Still, Víðarr feels old. Older than usual, as he tilts his head to the side, temple resting lightly against Kiela.

"What would you say, if I asked you to move closer for the winter? Right across, near us, and Valtiel too?" It's a gentle question, perhaps testing the waters. While he knows and respects the woman's nature, Víðarr aches with the losses of the last season. Whatever the remainder of the year would bring, he needs her close, now more than ever.

"Víðarr"

Kiela nodded, understanding his words completely. Though she was different than him in many ways, they were similar in the ones that mattered to her. Maybe once she had been stubborn enough to think that her own way of life was the best one, but she knew now that the diversity among wolves was a good thing. Her way was not necessarily the right one, but it was what was right for her. She was just glad that Víðarr had found a way to make politics more bearable for himself.

He spoke then of the wolf who had died, a woman named Audra. Kiela felt empathy toward his loss, even if she hadn't ever met the woman herself. The heaviness of his loss is felt in the way he leans into her. She returns the touch, light but steady as she leans into him. "Is this a hypothetical question, or are you asking me?" Kiela has always been a straightforward wolf, though there's an obvious touch of gentle playfulness in her words.

Though she preferred sleeping in the mountains, the truth was that Kiela wasn't terribly picky about where she laid her head at night. Before Heiðinn she'd rarely slept in the same place for more than a few nights in a row. Occasionally she might stumble across a den site that was familiar to her, but those moments were far and few between. "I wouldn't mind that at all. How close do you want me?" Not a suggestive question in the slightest, but a sincere one. Keeping loved ones close was a natural response to when things were hard, and she was happy to do what she could to bring Víðarr some comfort right now.

The viking king is warm, his smile genuine. Warm. They're straight shots, the both of them, but he's glad there's mirth here too. "Asking. I never want to hold you back, I respect you too much for that." The words are gentle, spoken with a weight that rests heavily in the space between them.

Víðarr's tail wags, thumping evenly on the broad, warm rock beneath them. "There are a couple good spots, I think. One so close we could connect it, with some work. Another with more breathing room, if you prefer." In truth, he'd already set about clearing both of debris, getting them livable. Drawing everyone close and together for another winter on the mountain was par for the course, or so he'd tell himself.

"Víðarr"

Her clarifies that he was asking, though respecting her will as well; her smile grows slightly, though her answer remains the same. Kiela doesn't mind moving closer for the next few seasons, or even longer if he prefers it. Víðarr was not a wolf she had ever felt stifled by; she'd never felt she needed more time away from him. If anything, the opposite was true.

"Some work doesn't bother me," Kiela admitted quickly. Connecting their dens was a curious choice but she understood that he was grieving, and the company of those close to him would likely be comforting. "And you think Tenshi will not mind?" The last thing she wanted to do was upset his mate, someone Kiela herself considered a friend. Any sort of drama like that wasn't something she wished to entangle herself in.

Closer. He wants them closer, he wants them where he can see them. All of them, yes, but more... more the most important ones. Pulled close, brought nearer to him. Perhaps he's getting old and paranoid, perhaps he's lost too much over the last two seasons. The viking king doesn't dwell on the why, only that it's an option.

"No, I think the closeness will be helpful for her, too." His reassurance is gentle, careful. Her feathers had never been ruffled, especially by friends. To have them all so close would make life easier coming towards winter, especially with the pups. Convenience, comfort, safety... it makes sense. Víðarr could make it make sense, as he arranges them all in his mind. The flat of his cheek fondly on Kiela's shoulder, he's certain he'll feel better this way.

"Víðarr"

His request is one that Kiela knows another wolf might think more carefully about, but she has no intention of pouring over his intentions. Keeping those closest to him even closer, especially following a death, made perfect sense to her. Being closer to both Víðarr and Tenshi would do her good as well. Never had she expected to feel so comforted by the proximity of wolves she cared for, though time had seemingly changed a lot of things for Kiela.

"If you're certain," Kiela said after a moment of thought. She wouldn't push the matter further, rather listen to Víðarr's wishes. She let out a pleased sigh as she leaned into his touch, comforted by his presence here and now. Something about his words make her feel more settled too, more concretely here. She'd never quite felt she belonged anywhere but she couldn't deny the feeling now.