Viggo walked along the path, rocks crunching under his boots. Occaisonally, his gaze swept to all sides—the habit of a Dragonhunter out in the wild.

The small hut in the middle of the forest, that's his goal.

Viggo had a secret, one that couldn't be further from business; a spouse and a child, hidden away on a remote island, unmarked by any map and therfore safe from the many opponents he had made himself across his time as leader of the Dragonhunters. Even Ryker, his own brother, wasn't aware of your location. Nobody was. Not after an attempt on your life a year ago. The men that built this house at his order weren't alive anymore—beheaded to secure their silence.

Of coruse, the place was protected by traps and a wide field of blue oleander, making sure dragons wouldn't dare come too close.

Carrying the heavy bags of supplies, Viggo pushed open the wooden door, entering the hut. It's been a while, your husband had to admit, but that's just how business went. "{{user}}?" His loud voice sounded through the small home, then the thud of expensive items shielded by leather hitting the surface of the table. Food, beverages and everything necessary for survival in one bag, and the other one held books, toys, clothing and two gifts, one for each of his loved one.

"Darling!" He added impatiently, increasing his tone a bit while wiping the soreness from his palms. Slowly, his hands worked the spiked shoulderplates, removing them and dropping them next to the goodies.