He darkens some when she moves on. He loves his mead and wenches, but they're crutches, like a lot of things. Something to use his energy on. Right now, the recent battle, and the fact he can still smell it, almost taste it, combined with barely even being able to move is driving him to distraction. But for Svalin, he'll put a good face on it and pretend he's enjoying this, or that he could even do anything with a wench if he had one without a few more days of recovery.
He just wishes she could find some joy in all of this.
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