The summer was nearly half gone by now. They’d need to make preparations for winter… preparations that would be easier if they were able to settle. It had been on Víðarr’s mind more and more since his conversation with Iðunn a few weeks back. Shit, did he really have it in himself? Would he sit at the helm of a pack? Self doubt wasn’t Víðarr’s brand– of course he had it in him. The bigger concern was the agreement of the others. The family that he held so dear, and even the pieces of the puzzle that had begun fitting together since their arrival. Family comes first, but the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. Some of them were blood, some of them not, but that didn’t matter. They’d turned their back on the name they’d been given by history and taken up something different. Something better. At least Iðunn hadn’t seemed opposed to Víðarr sitting at the head of the table. While he wasn’t the one that had led them away from home in the first place, he’d taken on a lot of the responsibility since being on the road. Maybe he could be the one to say, once and for all, that they should stay here. Still, there would be approval that was far harder to win– especially Sanngriðr herself. Thoughtfully, the shadow took up a perch upon the wall. It was getting to be just about time to have that talk. VÍÐARR Ragnarök awaits.

Sanngriðr had grown comfortable enough here, but winter loomed in the back of her mind. Ever present. They were always moving towards it, and when they arrived it would be a fight for survival. Every single fucking time, it was a fight for survival. A scrape, a scrap, something they’d have to do their absolute damndest for. At least in her mind. There was no telling what winter here would really bring. Sanngriðr wasn’t sure she liked that not knowing, either. They’d spent last winter somewhere far off, and they’d drifted too far south for her liking. It had been an easy winter, comparative to the ones that had raised them. Still, things here could be different. There was no knowing until it arrived. It should have been time to move on soon… right? Sanngriðr considered that everyone had grown relatively comfortable here, herself included. Was it time? Were they safe? Safety was a weird fucking concept, especially after so many nights spent awake and staring over her shoulder. Anyone who’d been pursuing them would have caught up by now. Maybe they didn’t give as much of a fuck as she’d hoped, a thought that stung all on its own. Don’t dwell. To a relatively intact section of wall, the valkyrie moved. The look on her face was mostly placid… mostly. No, there would be no talk of the storms in her head. Not today. With a grunt (of effort or of greeting it was hard to tell), she hoisted herself to settle beside her brother. Fine. SANNGRIÐR Kom och hata mig.

Speak of the devil and he’ll appear, apparently. Maybe Sanngriðr’s ears had been burning, what with the volume of the shadow’s thoughts. The siblings were close, and always had been. The valkyrie had been his protector since birth. Víðarr would like to think that he could do the same, now that they were older. Not that she needed it, but still. Not like she’d ever admit to even allowing it… but Víðarr could live with the version of himself constructed in his own mind. She grunts. He grunts back. They lay like that in silence for a long time, content with the shade. Víðarr couldn’t tell you how much time had passed before he finally comes up with the words he actually wanted, idly scraping a hide from the previous day’s dinner. The work was necessary, idle, and something that he enjoyed more than he cared to admit. “Look, I found him.” The words were quiet, and he inclined his muzzle toward Fisk. It was easier to talk about the events, the day to day goings on, than what Víðarr was really thinking and feeling. No, that would come to the shadow in time. For now, he’d simply… show Sanngriðr the dog? Good enough. VÍÐARR Ragnarök awaits.

The silence that stretched between them was golden, something that Sanngriðr would always appreciate. She didn’t feel the need to fill the space with idle chatter. They understood each other better than that. The shadow doesn’t particularly care for speaking, and Sanngriðr is happy to not need it. An understanding, a tale older than time, stretches between the pair. When he finally does speak, it’s to state the obvious. The dog hadn’t escaped Sanngriðr’s notice. She wasn’t dumb, and she’d seen Víðarr buying his friendship with meat and a warm place to sleep. Earning (or purchasing) the creature’s loyalty was a decent strategy… the only irritating thing was that Sanngriðr hadn’t considered it first. “His name?” It seemed rude to just call him hund after all. If they were going to have someone else to feed around camp (not that the actual act of feeding the dog was a chore, just something else to be on her mind), then he ought to have a name. Sanngriðr didn’t look away from the treeline, where her ever watchful gaze had been fixed since joining her brother upon the wall. SANNGRIÐR Kom och hata mig.

Really, her lack of strong reaction was probably a good thing. Víðarr had a habit of taking in strays, and it wasn’t always at the best time. The valkyrie had simply looked at the dog, appraised him, and decided that he was a good enough choice. They’d already taken on a bear together, and it left him feeling stronger than ever. Strong… incredibly fucking strong. Víðarr was thriving here, with plentiful prey and new sparring opponents. “Fisk.” Fish. The dog was called fish– it was his favorite food, or at least, seemed to be. It didn’t seem that he spoke the common tongue, nor their mother tongue, or any of the other scraps of language that Víðarr had tried to throw at him. Maybe he was just shy. The shadow could relate to not being thrilled with talking, at least. It would be another problem for another day. Silently, Víðarr returned to scraping the hide. He still didn’t know how to approach the conversation with her. The valkyrie’s presence was an imposing one, despite their uncharacteristic softness around each other. It was still a hard thing to think about, a hard thing to speak about. Though he’d be at their helm in the eyes of the rest of the world, there’s no head of the table when the table itself is round. Something like that. VÍÐARR Ragnarök awaits.

Sanngriðr reached out with a paw and swatted her brother (hard, for a gesture meant to be playful) on the nose. He’d made the decision to call the dog… fish. Somehow it didn’t surprise her. Boys. In time, the valkyrie would find something more fitting to call the creature. For now… well, she supposed Fisk would do. She supposed. A begrudging supposition. They slip back into silence, though Iðunn’s question still weighed heavy on her mind. She’d asked if it seemed Víðarr was happy here. Though a relatively closed book, the valkyrie would like to think so. Still, she hadn’t gotten a chance to talk it over with the priestess, and the conversation had fallen by the wayside. Had she and the shadow even gotten a chance to speak? Hm. It’s Sanngriðr that breaks the silence this time, finally turning to fix her brother with a (likely unsettling) amber gaze. “Are you happy here?” How much does a valkyrie weight? Apparently, enough to break the ice. SANNGRIÐR Kom och hata mig.

The swat came, and Víðarr would be an idiot if he hadn’t anticipated it. Still, he probably deserved it, and he let it land. It bonked off his muzzle, and he remained… well, he remained fairly relaxed through it all. There was no need to get worked up, despite the valkyrie’s antics. It was typical of siblings. As strange as their dynamic could be, it made him feel like he belonged. It made Víðarr feel loved. The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. He was grateful that he shared both with such a strange, fierce bunch. Really, all of them were held together by something that was greater than family. Shared trauma. Right. That would be some unpacking, but it was unpacking that came later. Her question leaves him in thought for a moment, though he replies with conviction. It’s more conviction that even Víðarr would generally show, at least in conversations of feelings. Talking about feelings… listen, that shit is hard. Still, his response is clear. “I am.” He was quiet for only a beat longer before turning the question back on Sanngriðr. “Are you?” Right. He’d need to know where she stood, especially before making the proposal that had lived in his head for what seemed like far too long. VÍÐARR Ragnarök awaits.

Sanngriðr can’t help but be surprised at just how quickly her brother answered the question. Usually one to take his time before speaking and really think things through… was be being rash? She took a moment to look at the shadow. Really look at him. Studying the curve of his face, and the way that the light caught and changed in the broad planes. The thing about Víðarr, he’d creased his face with worry long before his time. Over the last year, the idea that they might be tracked had taken a toll on him (only because it had taken a toll on her, but Sanngriðr was oblivious to that fact), and it had aged him prematurely. Here, it seemed that much of that tension had unraveled. He looked… well. He looked genuinely well. Maybe it wasn’t a rash response after all. Even more surprising, he turned the question back on her. Sanngriðr had been the caretaker for so long, putting her own needs and happiness last. It was her duty, as the older sister. It was her duty as the one that had dragged them all on this trip in the first place. It was her duty as the expedition leader. But he’d taken the time to ask, and Sanngriðr would tell him. “Yes, surprisingly.” The valkyrie spoke quietly, her gaze flickering back to her work on the hnefatafl set. Too much eye contact was bad for you, she’d decided. Too prolonged… you’d see things that you didn’t want to. You’d see dangerous things, and she didn’t want that. Beside her brother, she was at peace. At rest. As well as Sanngriðr knew him, she figured that there would be a question coming sooner rather than later. SANNGRIÐR Kom och hata mig.

While his sister was surprised with her answer, Víðarr was not. Sometimes, each knows the other better than they know themselves. It’s hard to see the forest through the trees, especially in your own head. His smile was soft, secretive as he looked out over the forest spread before them. It was… it was nice. Moments like this were nice. It was starting to feel more and more like a home. For real, a home. And it’s in that moment that Víðarr resolves to do it. He’ll ask his sister the same question that he’d asked Iðunn on the day she’d come to check on him. On the day that she’d come to see how he was doing. Still, he needs to steady himself before asking. It’s a big question, one that had implications for both of their futures. Hell, it could have implications for all of their futures. “What would you say if I wanted to start a pack of my own, here,” the words were quiet. His gaze remained on the horizon, unable to steal a glance at Sanngriðr. Though Víðarr would he hard pressed to say the words out loud, her approval was among the most important things in this world. VÍÐARR Ragnarök awaits.

The question that came wasn’t one that surprised the valkyrie, not in the slightest. It seems that some are born with leadership in their blood. Her brother was one of that sort, but he was also… tender. Soft. Too soft in the heart to lead a pack all on his own. His movements were too telegraphed. These were the same reasons that he often faltered when they fought each other. Still, Sanngriðr knows him as she knows her own mind, and she has confidence that his head and heart are in the right place. She thinks about his words for a long moment. He was a man now… he should be ready. Tender, maybe a bit naive, but those were things that needed time to change anyway. Time. It seemed that they had plenty of time here. It wouldn’t hurt to set their roots down. To have somewhere safe and warm to return to. A small smile crept across Sanngriðr’s lips. “I would say that I’m by your side, as always.” The words were quiet. She was comfortable in her spot here. Nothing, absolutely nothing, would tear them apart. This is what family is for. To the end, they’d stand together. Side by side. SANNGRIÐR Kom och hata mig.

Sanngriðr’s response brings the warmth of relief over the shadow. In honesty, he wouldn’t have known how to take rejection from her. When family means the most in the world… well, the idea of coming up short in their eyes is one that’s nearly unbearable. He’s comforted by the acceptance of the idea, and by the smile that plays on her face and in her tone. A smile from the valkyrie herself… it really would be a good day. Víðarr can’t help but allow a similar smile to play on his face, and in his tone, as he relaxes against the broad surface of the wall. “It’s settled, then.” He had Sanngriðr’s blessing. Iðunn hadn’t said no, at least when they spoke of similar things in the late spring. Hopefully, her confidence in the idea had grown. There was the question of telling the others, but that would go on his now growing to-do list. Learn the politics of this place. Figure out how strong the other packs were. See who were the best targets to raid for supplies, and what the others had to offer. That, and an idea growing in his mind. It occurred to the shadow that he’d need to visit the loudly colored man who lived within the mountain. He could bring pelts and furs in trade, and maybe a hnefatafl set. That, and he’d need to figure out what he’d say to his family. How he’d ask them to stand by his side. VÍÐARR Ragnarök awaits.