if you don't love me at my stinkiest...

He grinned down at the younger wolf, the markings across her eye a coloured reflection of his own. He laughed as she buried her face in his coat. He didn’t even notice the mud, he had spent enough time in his life muddy, wet, or sandy. Though he had to admit, cleaning it out of his feathers had often been a daunting chore.

He wrapped one wing about her in a hug, pulling her tight to his chest as the rest of him concentrated on keeping balanced. His claws were extended, and dug deep into the branch below them. His tail and second wing flared for an added touch of balance.

It was good to see another of his siblings taking an interest in climbing. He would have to teach her the art of ambushing unsuspecting pack members from height. “Have you been in this tree before, have you seen the tree house?” he asked. It had been a while since he was here last, so he was yet to catch her scent in his old haunt.