oath of silence

The thing with yearlings, of course, was that their presence usually indicated adults nearby. A pack, perhaps? Or was the, ahem, poor child lost and on his own? Nah. Definitely not that. He looked like he'd been chastised by Iarlaith's comment, and that was proof enough Iarlaith was right. If anything, it amused him to no end; it was definitely the sort of thing he might have—that is, had—done when he was a young wolf.

There was something else, though, that caught Iarlaith's attention. The boy's silence. Not a peep out of him. No sorries or how-do-you-do's, just a look that suggested, "Yeah, I've been caught, so what?" and even that was utterly silent. Didn't mean the boy wasn't nervous, and if Iarlaith noticed the silence, he certainly noticed the uneasy twitch of a tail.

Eyes lidded, he flicked an ear dismissively as he turned, all unconcerned grace as he paced slowly in front of his makeshift shelter. "Look, I don't really care. You don't cause trouble for me, I don't cause trouble for you…" He heaved a put-upon sigh, eyes rolling as he looked over his shoulder at the overgrown child… then his lip quirked, a toothy half-smile. "…but you did wake me up. You got anything to say about that?" He came to a stop as his brows rose. Pointedly.