out of the oven and into the frying pan

He was not expecting a call from his father so early in the morning. He half-heartedly contemplated ignoring it. It was a nice dream, but in reality, he could never do so. Yawning, he pulled himself from his siblings and mother, and slipped quietly out into the night. The moment he left the den, warmed by the body heat of his family, he shuddered. Hanging his wings by his side and grimacing, before heading out at a brisk run. Both to wake himself, and warm him.

He arrived at the communal space, and for a moment his eyes were only for his father. Too sleepy to take in much else. When he realised there was a girl on a leash beside him, he blinked in shock. “Dad…?” He asked. What was going on here?

“Mortis, this girl was sold to us a slave. She is young, with no talents, and so far no voice. To let her go beyond pack lands is a death sentence. I’m leaving it in your hands to keep her alive, and teach her. She, and I, are counting on you” his father told him. As if that wasn’t the biggest ask in the world. The boy sat heavily on his hunches, shocked, and looked open mouthed at the girl. “hnnnuuuh?”