Víðarr could feel the rain coming on long before it actually arrived. The pressure was changing, and an ache kicked up in his knee. This was a rain not unlike the ones from back home, a realization that came with a far-away glimmer in his eye. What a concept… what a thought. He thought of the family that he’d adventured away from, and how much time had passed. The way his sister spoke of things, they would have just as soon replaced him (and her, and the rest) with easier children anyway. Fresh litters each year, and life marched on. It was better off. He was better off. Víðarr could live his own life now. And live he did. As the first crash of thunder rung out, Víðarr could feel a thrill race down his spine. How fantastic. A wild, brassy laugh echoed in his throat and in his chest. The rain came on quickly, and he could hear it coming down upon the trees. Carefully, he stole himself away within the woods. The shadowed man would be able to ride out the storm here. From its gentle onset, the rain picked up. Simply raining to pouring down sheets of cold spring rain. The true power of his gods on display, the man was happy to find himself beneath the massive canopy of trees. It was safety, but not only that, it was comfort. Víðarr crossed to a pile of leaf litter, one that seemed to be mostly dry beneath the overlapping canopy. Carefully, he flattened a comfortable spot with his paws, and tucked in to watch the storm as it raged on. VÍÐARR Ragnarök awaits.

The speed in which the lightning raced across the sky, and the boom of thunder that shook the earth was delightful. She could feel the electricity fizzing on her tongue, and felt so very, delightfully, alive. The Aracari raced across the field as another strike of lightning forked through the sky. Bringing the world to life, and sparking the lighter blues across her coat. She let out a soft yip of delight as she finally reached the forest. Shaking off the rain in her coat.

She heard the sound of a brassy laughter beneath the pattering of the rain, and turned her body towards the sound. Weaving her way through the long-limbed trees until she found the owner of the voice. A dark coat, settled comfortably on litter of leaves, a canopy of greenery above his head. If ever a place looked more cosy, she didn’t know it. “Can anyone enter?” she purred lightly


"Speech"

It really was a beautiful sort of storm. Spring was fierce, and he found himself falling in love with it. Víðarr would fall in love over and over again with life. He couldn't really help that, and he couldn't help himself. Life was too beautiful, and too precious. A reverence for it all... it was a means of honoring the gods. Loving life, and living to the fullest extent. The shadowed man would live every breath like it was his last, despite knowing that the only life he wanted was to go down in battle. Yes, he would eventually go down that way, but for now? For now he'd live. He'd live the most beautiful life he could, and for now, that was watching the storm. Beautiful. Víðarr soon learned that the storm wasn't the only beautiful thing he'd be met with today. He lay easily on his leaf pile, leaning on the tree to his side. The woman was gorgeous. Tall, with a coat that reflected the galaxy itself. Another crack of thunder, and Víðarr could feel the electricity in the air. Oh how wonderful. All of it really was. His tail wagged easily as he took the girl in, the sound of the leaves swishing behind him. "Not anyone," there was a bit of mischief somewhere in his gaze. A soft smile played on his lips, and he allowed himself to fully relax into the comfort of the tree itself. "But you can." Another soft wag of his tail, allowing himself to stretch to full length. The girl was tall, but Víðarr was denser and heavier. With his size on display, the shadow wanted to show that he could keep her from the chilly breeze as well. In moments like this, he could be a gentleman after all. VÍÐARR Ragnarök awaits.

She cracked an eyebrow at his response, catching the mischief in his gaze in the dim lighting. He was a wolf far too at ease, relaxed against the tree as through the thunderstorm was a mild spring day. She couldn’t help herself, she laughed softly. Enjoying the tingle of danger down her spine far too much.

“Your generosity.” She purred, slipping into the little protection of his canopy, and the softness of the fallen leaves beneath her paws. She moved until she was beside him, and sank gracefully to her stomach, flicking a glance over his muscled body with appreciation. “The pleasant atmosphere, the good company, all we are missing now is some decent food.” she joked, flicking her tail against his side.


"Speech"

Far too at ease, if he'd been unable to defend himself. But this was something far different. Víðarr is confident in himself, and in any ability he'd need to use. Confident in any way this day would go having been long determined by the gods... wherever it would take him, he would simply allow it. Every new adventure was at their will, and the passing of time was theirs and theirs alone. It was their world, and Víðarr was simply living his best life within it. The woman's laugh sent a pleasant thrill through her system. A pretty thing. "For you," Víðarr's tone was cheeky, shifting where he lay just a bit. He wanted to be closer, though he wouldn't invade her space entirely. He could keep his tone confidential, intimate, as long as they were just near enough. His posture is still comfortable, if a bit lazy. Rest, you see, held just as much importance than the industrious lifestyle his sisters kept up. "After the lightning ends, we eat," it was an invitation, eyebrows lifting softly. If she hadn't tired of him by then, Víðarr could hope. "Give me your name, sötnos?" The words were soft, curious. Maybe the endearment was a bit out of pocket, but the shadow couldn't help himself. Some things came a bit too easily, he'd admit. VÍÐARR Ragnarök awaits.

translation notes--
sötnos translates literally to sweet nose, but it's more of a casual endearment like sweetheart is when you're flirting with someone you don't know well

The dark-clad stranger shifted closer to her, and she gave a sound akin to a purr, and shifted until her head rested against his shoulder. Never one to care overly much on personal space. With the warmth of his fur beneath her throat, her eyes returned to the thunderstorm. The display was somehow just outside of their world. The warmth of their body heat chasing away the chill of the storm. The patter of rain was a pleasant sound, but his voice even more so. She glanced lazily up at him from her comfortable position. “Are you offering me a bite?” she teased, running her tongue over her lips.

“Lorikeet, or Keetie, to those that earn a kiss” she teased him lightly. Enjoying the show of him just as much, if not more so than the storm.


"Speech"

The brilliant, beautiful woman settled against his side. Viðarr was collected, relaxed, softly nosing at her cheek and neck. It was casual, simply exploring the way she fit together. In all of her finery, she was light, fine of bone, delicate without being fragile. A deep, warm chuckle rang from the inside of his chest. It's brassy and reverberates in the space between them. "Maybe more than one," his grin was relaxed, rakish. Viðarr was at peace, for once.

"How is it I... earn?" The word tasted funny in the common tongue, but then, so did most words. His r sounds rolled without a second thought, and they played in his mouth as he did. The hulking shadow is simply taking in this Keetie for all she has to offer, and he's by no means disappointed.

"Viðarr"