call me insane
seasonal prompt/open if you want it
Cooperative
12-27-2021, 10:36 PM
(This post was last modified: 12-27-2021, 10:37 PM by Víðarr. Edited 1 time in total.)
There was nothing to fear other than fear itself… but the joke was on literally everyone else. Víðarr was fear itself. Hell had broken open, and all the demons were here. Well, okay, they weren’t demons exactly. They were, however, something more unchained and unhinged than this place had ever laid eyes upon. There was something horrifying about the Trygg family, though no one here knew it yet. No, not yet. They would know in time. Víðarr had made a decision. He’d decided that he rather liked it here, and that he was going to get comfortable. Turn it into his home. Choose a home among them, and make it his own. Oh yes, that was where the danger came in. The shadowed man was going to find a place (several places?) he’d like to live. It would have to be somewhere far to the north, like the places he explored now. The cold was a borderline requirement– without it, they’d overheat. Likely all of them would overheat, and he couldn’t have that. Family came first after all. Víðarr would take his time analyzing what he could about the migration patterns of the prey animals as well, so they knew for sure that they’d have enough food for the winters. Hell, if they were putting down some roots, maybe they’d even be able to plant things. Maybe they’d even keep livestock? What a wild idea. Víðarr thought of life back home, from before they’d broken off from the elders of the family. As the new generation, maybe this really was their destiny. Destiny was always wrapped up in blood, though. Víðarr knew that as well as any. He was happy to spill blood to get what he wanted, and it was clear that would be necessary. The man needed to hone his skills, much like sharpening any blade. Víðarr was a knife, sharp and biting. How excellent. He would need to hone his skills, and he would need to fight. Anything that Víðarr got his hands on, he’d need to scrap and scrape with. It was important. Gods, it was so important. He was young, and had much to learn. On quiet feet, Víðarr padded through the forest. Around him, the trees sprung up like he couldn’t believe. They were so immense, so tall… beautiful, really. Breathtaking, if you’d venture as much. He was careful not to disturb the land too much, though. Couldn’t disturb it too much if he really wanted to learn from it, and learn about it. Víðarr was nearly always on the trail of some prey animal or another, looking for them, hoping to bring food back to his family. There were elk out here, and they made for a good meal. He needed to learn how they moved, and where they liked to go. Where they liked to be. If Víðarr could learn their behavior, then he could learn how to find them more easily, and hunt while still conserving energy. He wasn’t the only predator tracking the elk, though. Among the tall trees, there was certainly something else out here. There was always something else out here, the lush trees springing up on all sides. Víðarr was being watched and tracked, just as the elk were. It was dusk, and he could feel something watching him, eyes on his blue-black figure as he moved on through. This place was certainly not without danger, and danger… well, danger was something that Víðarr was rather pleased with. He could handle danger. Trouble did always seem to find him, and he was happy to find it right back. And find it he did. Víðarr stumbled upon the cougar, and didn’t hesitate for a single moment. No, he had the element of surprise and it was best he use it. This was the edge he’d likely need to get out of this one cleanly… hopefully cleanly. Víðarr sprung upon the predator, teeth sinking into the side of its neck. He was savage, but there was something… something hard in his mouth? What the fuck? It scraped against his teeth and left him coming up spitting and making a face. No that wasn’t ideal, but it wouldn’t stop him. Nothing would stop him, and he’d examine after. The creature beneath him shrieked and pitched as Víðarr caught one of the hard things in his mouth, and he spat it on the ground. A crystal? Not only that, the removal of it seemed to hurt the creature that pitched and rolled beneath him. That was fucking strange… so strange. He couldn’t let it distract him too much. With an angry yowling noise, the creature pitched Víðarr from its back. The shadow rolled for just a moment before stumbling to his feet. The cat attempted to sink its claws into Víðarr’s flank, and the man cried out in pain. Shit, that really did still hurt. Still, he’d grit his teeth and throw himself back on the cougar. This time it was into the junction of the cat’s neck and shoulder, teeth sinking in savagely. The raider was alight with it, alive with it… bloodlust, and the rage of a berserker. Víðarr could feel the cat’s sharp teeth puncturing the flesh of his foreleg, but it was no matter. He was able to rip and shred at the creature, pulling it away from his more vital bits. That was fine. With a great, sharp growl Víðarr ripped and tore with his strong jaws at whatever he could reach. He would come out of this on top. There were no two ways about it. Hulking as he was, the shadow couldn’t be downed by this beast. He wouldn’t be downed. No, with great force he crashed into the already weakened cougar. It crumbled beneath Víðarr’s weight, and he delivered a swift killing blow to finish it. Mercy. A swift death was a great mercy, and that was enough. In his chest, the shadow’s heart hammered. He was out of breath, and his foreleg was bleeding. This was Víðarr in his most natural state, matted and dirty, bleeding, and alight with the joy that came with a good fucking brawl. All was well. VÍÐARR Ragnarök awaits. |
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