By now Rúna knew every rock, twig and leaf that existed near the den that she and her family called home. Sometimes she ventured a little farther when she was on her own, but for the most part she kept pretty close to home unless someone else was with her. After all, the less she was in trouble the happier her parents were with her and the happier they were with her then the more treats she got and adventures she got taken on! She was a smart pup that way. As much as she liked having fun and getting into a little trouble like her brothers, she was careful about when and where she pushed her boundaries. Like today, the den was still well within sight, but she used a nearby pile of rocks to get a higher point of view.

She pulled herself up onto each new tier of rocks with her clumsy paws that were far too big for her current size, making a little grunt of effort each time. The pile of rocks was maybe a few feet high, but for a pup like her it felt like she was climbing a whole mountain! Obviously she knew it wasn't a mountain since they lived on a mountain and it didn't make sense for a mountain to be on a mountain... did it? While she was pondering her conundrum about mountains one of her paws slipped on a little scattering of pebbles and she lost her footing, making her scramble for a moment before she went toppling backward off of her mini-mountain. She fell head over heels a few times as she rolled back down to the bottom before landing on her back with a firm thud. "Owwwwww..." she whined, her ears folding back with a frown. The fall knocked the air out of her a bit and her shoulder and butt felt pretty sore from where they had hit the rock on the way down, but otherwise she was alright–except for maybe a bruise to her pride for failing her mountain climbing expedition.

"Rúna"

Smart and well behaved, even if she was already showing signs of using good behavior to game the system. Víðarr would take it. Good behavior is a hot commodity in the litter of little heathens. He wouldn't have it any other way. Busy as he was, the viking king wasn't going to let time with them go by the wayside either. For all his shortcomings, Víðarr isn't his father's son.

While he doesn't stop Rúna's desire to climb up her mountain-on-a-mountain, he's aware enough. He would watch without watching, as he often found himself. Stringing herbs up to dry for Tenshi. While he wasn't a healer, he could follow instructions. It was easy enough to braid together the herbs that she'd left clumped together, pretending he wasn't watching the girl as she played.

The thump, the tumble, the yelp-- Víðarr is on his feet in a heartbeat. Not letting more than concern show in his voice as he peers around to look at her. If he was calm, she'd be calm... hopefully? "Ah, princessan, what happened?" The viking king reaches out to scoop up and dust off the girl, checking to make sure there's no blood. Satisfied to find none, he ruffles her ears. Víðarr wouldn't pretend he wasn't eager to carry the child around while she was still little. Only so small for so long, right?

"Víðarr"