action, meet consequence

It was a couple minutes before Tenshi joined him, coming through the doorway like a true force of nature. Always a smile on his lips when it came to her, and this was no different, though it's mixed with a pained sort of look. Was that-- anger? Her voice loud, her expression going stormy in a heartbeat, and the words catch his breath in his throat. The storm fades in an instant, and he's chuckling now too. Tenshi had gotten him, and Víðarr couldn't say that he didn't deserve it.

"Your Swedish is getting very good," he speaks with a grin, a glimmer in his own icy gaze. Sprawled out on the table as she works. allowing himself to take up space. The shadow is hulking, comfortable, though he flinches when his wife presses up against the wound. The poultice would do its job, but the contact burned. Víðarr knows it's supposed to... hell, isn't how they knew it was working? It made him feel alive, and to have Tenshi on the other end... well, there's a reason she's the only one the viking king has been a good patient for.

"I figured as much." He grumbled, preparing to grit his teeth. There was something in the eyes of the viking king. Something a little hungry. Tenshi was the only one allowed to hurt him like this, was the only one to have him vulnerable and in her care. Fierce and tender in equal measure, that's the web they weave. "More scars make me more handsome, no?" He winked, a little toss of his dark head. Though he hurt, there's still something sturdy about him. Rugged. Not wavering, not with a little (big) wound from a ram.

"Víðarr"