oath of silence

An ear flicked—once, twice—while Iarlaith considered. See, thing was… he definitely thought it was a lanky adult until the very-definitely-not-even-a-yearling turned around. Sure, the kid was tall, but now that he was still, it was impossible for Iarlaith to miss. The lanky proportions of a young wolf, the wide, startled eyes of someone who'd never learned to guard their face like Iarlaith had…

Well. Shit.

Not that it made any difference. The kid was still rude, launching off of his shelter like that! But the kid was still just that—a kid—and Iarlaith wasn't about to go crazy on some pup who, clearly, hadn't anticipated his springboard containing an adult wolf. Yeah, Iarlaith definitely couldn't fault him for that.

The bird, on the other paw, was a far more interesting addition. Iarlaith's eyes narrowed on the attitude-with-feathers. Its keen expression (not that he was well-versed in reading the expressions on birds) made him a little more uneasy. Still, he offered a smirk. What? He wasn't going to do anything…

Besides, that little blighter could be trouble, if it was inclined to be. Hell, it even perched on the kid like some sort of pet.

Iarlaith's fur smoothed, and with a soft huff, the man rolled his orange eyes, and plopped in front of his shelter. Gracelessly. As usual.

So. What was the big idea? Iarlaith's brow rose, silently questioning the youth before him, then not-so-silently: "Out for a joy-run, eh?" He actually chuckled, eyes switching between the pair, "Or is waking strangers up just a thing for you?"