out of the oven and into the frying pan

His father eyed him steadily, and heavily for a moment, and mortis knew it was to ensure he understood the importance of the job. He gave his father a nod, trying to show confidence he wasn’t feeling. Sirius moved forward, ruffled his forehead fur, and then moved away. Perhaps to patrol, his father looked restless.

With his dad gone, the boy looked to the girl, and the bear, grabbed the rope of her, and kissed her brow. “I’ve got this” he promised her, and waited for her to leave, as well. He then turned back to the ‘captive’ and scowled. “I’m not leaving this on you. You wont run away and get yourself hurt, or me into trouble, right?’ he asked her. But it wasn’t really a question, he was already cutting the rope. He had feline claws too, just like his dad.

He draped a wing over her gently, sheltering her with the appendage, and doing rather a good job of it - she was so small. It kept the light dusting of snow off her. “I, uh, I don’t know what to do now. What’s your name?”