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"
Víðarr has two Karelian bear dogs and a white morph tawny owl. Assume they're within calling distance unless otherwise stated.
Víðarr speaks with a dense Swedish accent.