out of the oven and into the frying pan

It was the bear that stepped forward, grabbing the girl one one hand, and making a shooing motion with the other. “Yes, thank you, that will be all” The Warlord said with cruel dismissiveness. Turning his attention from the man as though he was already gone, the Warlord grabbed the bag, and slung it over his own shoulders. He then took a seat in front of the girl. By then, the slaver had taken his blood money and left. Sirius took a feline-like frontal claw, and snipped it under her muzzle, breaking the material and letting it fall to the floor.

“Bloody slaver” he growled unhappily, more to himself then the girl. Io would have to see to her chuffed skin. He grabbed the second pack the bear carried, well his companion patiently waited, rope held tightly in a deadly, hooked claw. He rummaged around until he brought out a few strips of dried meat, a gaud of water. “Help yourself, girl. Do you have a name?” she was just a pup younger than his own children.