Mores the pity

He wasn’t sure what it was about Io. She reminded him of one of the no-nonsense wolves that had helped raise him when he had been a wee child. Such support hadn’t remained in his life for long, and he hadn’t thought they had held a lasting impact. But spending time with Io now… he could deny a desire to needle her.

He moved gently with the bonk, taking it on his shoulder without protest. He dipped his head again in agreement towards the older wolf. “Of course, Lady Iolaire” he agreed, a hint of rare fondness creeping into his tone.

At her indication, he got to his paws, and followed after the small wolf. She led him towards the trickle-down garden he had admired on his second day in the pack. The garden that gave him the idea that Io was royalty - and she had admitted to being sister to Sirius. He thought a small army of slaves must be at her disposal for the rich, vagrant life of her beautiful garden, and the cleverly built layout it thrived in.

He was truly touched as she finished her speech. She seemed to truly want to devote time and training to little old him. “I would be honoured Iolaire…. Ma’am” he tucked on at the end. He very carefully didn’t grin.