patch you up, bed you down

They'd spilled some blood, they'd come out on top-- Víðarr had every confidence they would. The cowardly pack had tried to talk them down, a prospect that amused the viking king. They would be back, in time. After taking one victory off of them, who's to say there couldn't be more? Best to let them recover, though, so Avalon had good shit to take next time they came knocking.

With his wife at his side, the viking king offered a sly grin over his shoulder to the rest of the pack. Yes, they would eat together soon. For now he has some... celebrating of his own to do. Possessively, he remains in contact with Tenshi as much as he can manage without slowing them down. Right, he was wounded, she was a healer. Víðarr will forever savor any moment he can be alone with her.

Stealing a nip here, a nibble there, as she gets her supplies-- he can't help himself. Finally letting Tenshi do her job, Víðarr flopped back on their bed. "The ankle," the viking king wouldn't bother lying. It wasn't the most severe, but the flesh was torn and he'd certainly be bruised and sore tomorrow. It's with that bloodied paw he reaches out, he reaches for her chin. "The cow kicked your face... you are okay?" His gaze intense, caring, as he checks on his wife. Sure, she's the healer, but oh how he loves her.

"Víðarr"