You, sir, are a fish.

The brown wolf before him attempted to make himself look even smaller. Víðarr rose to his full height in return, standing a bit straighter than he maybe otherwise would have. His gaze was intense, but not cold. Watching. Waiting. Sakana, right, he'd only held onto what Erik had called the boy. A fixed stare, but a curious one. He had guts, showing up, offering an apology. In all honesty, he'd mostly forgotten about the transgression.

Taking a step towards the bag, Víðarr inspects it curiously. He would have one of his healers inspect it later. Even if it was something meant to harm them, it would be a useful training aid. The viking king knows fuckall about herbs, but he would show respect where respect had been given. "Consider it forgiven." The words come easily. It didn't seem Sakana had come on behalf of an alpha... he would have already said as much. There's more he wants to say, though Víðarr struggles to put it into words.

Clearing his throat loudly so the boy doesn't think he's off the hook, the viking king continues to watch him while he gathers the words. When he finally does speak, a question. "What is the real reason you are drawn here?"

"Víðarr"