10/2/2025, 8:52 PM
Skill: Brewmaster
As he lay in the soft grass, his mind enjoyably muddled, Fenrir's thoughts drifted through memories and thoughts of what might have been. He had been born to noble cause, a grand mission, and throughout all of his puphood he'd seen glimpses of that terrifying visage wreathed in thunder and lightning, He Who Was Meant to be Slain - and then, inexplicably, it all vanished.
Literally. His mother; others in his family. Tyr insisted that he and those who remained hadn't been 'left behind', thrown away like an inferior afterthought, but Fenrir wasn't so sure.
He wasn't sure at all.
Evening's gentle embrace quenched the last of the dying light, and Fenrir closed his eyes as the encroaching darkness set in with a comforting familiarity. He felt quite content to spend the rest of his evening this way, and it was only due to the feeling of a presence overhead that he opened his eyes and found himelf startled to see Aesgir's golden head looming into view.
How rude.
Probably,Fenrir conceded by way of response, rolling onto his back.
But who cares?
The yearling waved a paw toward the pile of strawberries close by.
Join me. Let us wile away the days in ineptitude and foolish regret,he said flippantly.
Behold, Fenrisúlfr Tyrson, born to greatness and so easily fallen to wasteful purposelessness.
![[Image: KqoUDf8.png]](https://i.imgur.com/KqoUDf8.png)
Signature by Viktor <3
