Thunder Dome fireloam

*tosses this in here* hopefully this is ok. still ...trying to figure out 'rar's character, lol.

The air was frigid against his thick, coarse winter coat, biting against the puckered pink exposed skin of his aged scars. Oðinn's mark was upon his marred flesh, heavy in the weight of his loyalty to the Allfather. Slowly, the Scandinavian drew in a deep breath, the sting of the cold air against his lungs familiar before he let it out in a slow exhale, his breath rising from his black, leathery nostrils in a steady tendril of steam. He watched it writhe in the air, for the briefest of moments a palpable essence before it dissipated. The northman had kept his word to the dragoness. He might not have actively sought her company since they had parted after he agreed to aid her in finding her pack he had not deigned to be too far away. He had explored the range she had spoken her desire of laying claim too, studying it's landscape and what it could offer them as far as prey went. He had seen two sparse herds, one of deer and the other of elk. They seemed to have claimed feeding grounds nearby. Taking from such a sparse gathering would dwindle their numbers rapidly and it was only mid winter. There were still a few grueling months to come and as if to attest to this the days had grown colder.

Such chill was familiar to him. He was born in the harsh grasps of winter and it was his element. He was adept at surviving, surviving war and winter — of which sometimes were barely distinguishable. Winter could be as cruel as war. The dragoness' howl rose into the frigid air, slicing through it as if her song were a corporeal thing. The Jarl had been expecting her call but the one she had sent out to him and another was not the one he'd been expecting. There was an undercurrent of urgency in her tone, platinum ears cupping forth to the dying sound of her summons. She was in danger.

The Viking was near though another had been closer he saw as he moved towards the gathering. He did not recognize the darker male and at the moment couldn't be bothered to care. He moved forth, hackles bristled along his spine, moving further than where the ebony male had ceased his steps, fiery eyes taking in first the dragoness and her close proximity to the two cats: one of silver and one of tawny. Would the situation not have been so immediately dire he would have offered a witty quip as to her situation ...but now was not the time to tease her. The northman moved to the dragoness' other side, brushing against her side briefly before he boldly came to a stop a few steps ahead of her, head lowered to protect his throat, lips curling back from his sharp canines in warning. He was not boisterous about it as the other male had been: did not accent it with a growl nor snarl. It was not the stoic berserker's style. His message was clear: it was not a challenge to her rank but a show. He was prepared to fight for her and to get to her they would have to go through him. The cats were larger but they were also outnumbered.