The Jungle is the loud antithesis to the movement of the young man.
He passes through the leafy, crowded forest with the ease that his upbringing has afforded him. His feet do not falter on vines that race like snakes across the dirt. He is nearly silent, save for the labor of his breath. The humid air is heavy while it lingers in his lungs. It takes effort to draw in a breath one moment and exhale it the next. It takes effort, too, to run through the jungle as he has, despite his ability to navigate its twisting, thorny pathways. They are efforts Vidar is comfortable with, however, because he is a man now.
And it is time he started acting like one.
To his credit, he’d accepted the mantle of his heritage as readily as his own name. Once he has his mind set to a task, the blue roan does not hesitate and does not look back. Even if back was a soft childhood of frolicking with the monkeys and playing hide-and-go-seek with the jaguar spirit. Back was exploring the far reaches of the Amazons with his sister who had finally come home. Back was the strong but yielding side of his mother – the way she knew what to say, to comfort, to teach, always. Back was a time of growing his heart and nurturing his soul, and he will cherish it always. But now, he must grow his body and mind. Now, he must look forward.
Sweat beads on his brow and catches the uneven light filtering through the canopy so that it shines. His body is responding to his demanding treatment of it; muscles thicken under his peppered coat. Just shy of his third birthday, it is clear that adulthood is every-nearing. It is also clear that he will wear it well: sturdy, thick, and stout. Not quite as stout as his father, perhaps (he’s gained more of Lagertha’s height, at least), but heavy all the same.
Vidar’s grey eyes peer into the dense underbrush as he stops to catch his breath. He’d hoped to see someone else on his run (it is impossible to avoid others in the crowded jungle usually), but thus far, he’d been alone. And while he isn’t particularly gregarious or outgoing, the young man did enjoy learning from the Sisters and those they kept alongside them. He wonders if mother will keep him here, sometimes. He knows he has an older brother out in the world (though where he is, neither dam nor child really know) and thinks maybe he’ll be out there soon as well. But where? Vidar doesn’t crave adventure in the way others might. The duty to protect and serve is much stronger within him, to fight and defend growing like another muscle. For now, though, he has to content himself with his training.
When a rare wind sways the towering trees and quiets the macaws, he picks up on an approaching sound. His ears swivel towards it, behind him, and he smiles. “Hello,” his voice is already a low grumble in his chest. The blue roan turns to greet the other. “Thought I was all by myself out here.”
Vidar