the rightful... heirs?

Work was work, and it had drawn him to the other side of the Steppe. The viking king would have preferred to not be the one handling another sheep-themed escape mission, but they needed hands and he wasn't going to let them get out. Still, it made for a long run back up the hill. Not built to sprint, the behemoth was out of breath by the time he came through the door of his den. Panting as he stumbles through, brows lifting as he spots the little brown healer. "You are still here, fishboy?" They're accompanied by a squint, but then, it looked like Tenshi was letting him help.

He moves to his wife's side, offering her his side, his cheek, his foot-- anything, really. Víðarr feels about as useful as nipples on a man in moments like this. It seemed like the two healers had things under control, so he'd just do his best to be moral support. Unsure how to help, but fixing Sakana with a steady, piercing stare. It's pressure that Víðarr views as warranted. Tenshi is the most important thing in his world, after all. "What do you need?" Though the question is for his wife, he supposes he'll take necessary instructions from the healer too. Víðarr knows when he's out of his depth. For now, he is a nervous, hovering dad.

"Víðarr"