Scraps

When he glanced back at the lightly-blue accented wolf, he found her mesmerized by the bedding he had placed her onto. Intended for Deathbelle and her children, it was from the thick, comfortable coat of a sheep. He stood silent a moment as she appreciated first that - and then the food and drink he had provided. She had been hard used, even before being abandoned. That kind of skeletal frame didn’t come from one dosing of starvation.

“Good.” He said gruffly, pushing away the feeling of possessiveness and the rage that something that was now his had been so sorely abused. He had no room in his heart left to care for another creature. He had his hands full with what he had already. She was here to fulfil a purpose. Getting soft over her would only ruin the use.

“There are herbs here, can you point me to the ones we will need to treat you?” he said, tilting the bag towards her so she could see inside. “Ah, good” this was to the Kea who fluttered into the den to answer the summons Marshal had delivered. “Take a look at these chains, won't you?” The Kea obediently hopped over, her sharp curved beak questing at the slaves confinement.

"Sirius Fatalis"