out of the oven and into the frying pan

He lingered on the outskirts, uncertain, weary, and a little bit afraid. Not of the girl, but the immense responsibility of her. It was like giving him a child, and saying he must care for it. He was only a child himself in what world did this work? Frustrated, but hiding it, the boy moved to leave the den, only to be compelled to stay.

He sighed softly, pushing his nose under her, he nudged her back onto the pelt, so she wouldn’t get a chill from the stone floor. Once she was settled on the blanket, he lay down beside her, putting a wing over her once more. Offering her a blanket with the appendage. With the sleek, grey, black, blue comfort, she looked a little more at ease. Maybe he was doing something right?

He settled his nose down onto his paw, the morning had not come just yet. He would need to be up for patrols and hunting and all that soon. That, and teaching this girl who refused to give him her name.