| Vidar Bǫlverkr Skógr |
Cisgender Male (He/Him) | 15 Years Old | Midnight Pack | Beta | Location: Midnight Pack-Sungods Border | Mentions: Tula, Bloodborne

Now the Midnight Pack Beta was left alone, his thoughts were ringing inside his head. Echoing, keeping him busy. It seemed that his mind enjoyed to lead him on, to distract him from any ill thing he attempted to do. However, the voice was not his own, but his father's. The one who had taught him ever since birth, the one who forcibly pushed him forward, praised him to believe he'd be the one to bring glory to their name. And yet, he was also the first canid to ever betray him. Discarded him, left him for dead. Simply due to superstition, tradition, and culture. That of which he held dear to his heart. That which caused Ezra's death in his paws. The teachings of his birth pack were strict and stern, no one would speak out of place. It was what called out to him too. Vidar should have learned the ways of this territory, it was very different ever since he had left home. So was he at fault for the attack? In the eyes of some, yes. In the eyes of others, no. For the world was never truly black and white, merely shades of differing grays. Morality was an importance to some and little to others. Vidar held an honor code compared to the rest of his Pack and yet it seemed to seemingly vanish when confronted with the trio of Sungods wolves. A huff from his nose escaped him, raising a large front leg to rub at his face the best he could. The blood that had splattered on his face was dried up, not to be cleaned in anyway unless he forced his head under the stream's water. An idea he wasn't too keen on entertaining.

Suddenly, his tall ears jolted upwards. A shiver went down his spine. There was a loud howl that pierced the air. One that he could obviously tell wasn't from a Midnight wolf. For it was filled with such delicacy and vulnerability, only to be felt when one was truly hurt. Midnight wolves refused to feel that, having too much pride to show it in their howls. This one was different, surely a Sungods'. It was beautiful, in the poetical sense, a fragile thing that still manage to hold such differing emotions. It was raw, full of anger and sadness. However, there was gentleness. How? It didn't take long for Vidar to realize what that howl was for. Grief. It seemed that his attacks on both wolves had ended one of their lives. Or maybe, both of their lives. Despite Vidar having a great sense of observation, so much so that he had learned the differing in tones of howls and emotions, there was nothing to tell him if one of them had live. So, he'd continue living on with the assumption that he had killed both. Even if both attacks that the two wolves suffered from didn't seem like much of a big deal to him. He had been holding back, it hadn't been his intention to kill either wolf. Simply to teach, just as his pack had with himself. No restraint, this is what happened once Vidar grew to comfortable with the customs of the Midnight Pack. He had caused death. Realization set on him. Next time in battle, he'd have to bare his honor code in mind. Or else, there was chance for destruction once more.

Once the howl had quieted down, the colossal brute took a couple of steps towards the forest, head ducked ever so slightly. That was, until a new howl broke the silence. This one was stronger and louder. Clear in pitch, commanding of respect. One that oozed confidence. The differences of howls between the first and the second were more than apparent. The first of a grieving wolf, the second of his Alpha. Bloodborne. Vidar had grown to recognize the howl of the Midnight Pack's Alpha. It was a powerful thing. It seemed that now it was filled with anger. Vidar wasn't one to feel fear. He hadn't in a long time. In his eyes, he had nothing to lose. His pack was one, sure, but they could live without him and the same applied to himself. He'd die for them, that much was true. However, he still didn't feel he had anything to lose. And with that in mind, he felt little to no fear. The sound of Bloodborne's rage, as much as he hated to admit it, had his stomach drop lightly. The feeling had gone away just a few seconds later but they had pushed a reaction of nervousness out of him. Vidar wasn't particularly scared of Bloodborne, however, there was no reason for her to be calling for Vidar. Unless, she found out about the two supposed murders he had caused. And the thought of her finding out so quickly? Well, that truly unnerved him. Was there anything that occurred around these parts that Bloodborne didn't know about?

Letting out a grunt, Vidar took a deep breath to truly compose himself before finally advancing on forwards. Or rather, advancing a bit forwards. He came to a stop again and looked over to his shoulder where the murder had occurred. Blood still stained the grass that had been caused by the overly loud canine's wound to the muzzle. Although it wasn't very noticeable, the grass was out of place and sticks were broken from where he had crushed Ezra to death. Those places, throughout the years, would return back to normal. However, death would always remain stained in their location. Death caused by his own paws and jaws. The thought had him licking his teeth again, to see if he had fully washed out the salty taste of blood from his teeth. He had. Maybe Vidar was finally losing it because he could swear that the salty taste remained in the back of his throat. Despite not fully paying attention to his surroundings, movements flickered through the corner of his eyes. Half-lidded scorching hues turned to land on the movements. His breath had come to a stop at the sight. Only for a minute though. It quickly returned back. Scorching amber hues widened ever so slightly at the figure that had made it's way back to the stream. The injured she-wolf, the one who could do nothing but watch as he, Vidar, killed her companions. There must have been resentment in her, so much that she'd likely be blinded by rage and attack him. Vidar wouldn't give a single reaction, he'd let her have her moments of satisfaction as he attacked him. However, he wouldn't let himself die. No, he was a survivor after all. Vidar too would kill her in an act of rare mercy, just so that she could be reunited with her packmates. Perhaps, dying soothed grief better than any other act would. Or maybe, Vidar truly had the twisted mind of a dense fool. Vidar would remain still, his head raised in recognition. He didn't make any movement, uttered no word, curious to see how the she-wolf would react.

Go on then, attack me. Were Vidar's immediate thoughts. Although he wouldn't ever admit it, he'd feel nothing but relief if she did. It was deserved.