Can you pass the brother test?

Romulus had been spending almost every day since he'd arrived in the Hallows with Lillith, not intentionally, it just seemed that the two shared similar interests and were becoming close friends. Ever since he'd met Lil out in the gardens beyond Hallowed lands, they'd been inseparable. He was trying to help her as a way of repaying her kindness; she'd gotten him a temporary home in a foreign land, shown him friendship, made him feel important. In turn, he helped her with her physical therapy, fight training, and healing practice. He was not unawares of the sideways looks he got from Ulric or some big spotted brunette wolf he assumed had some sort of relation to Lillith, since he hadn't come and kicked his ass as her boyfriend yet. A brother, maybe? It didn't matter that much to the aloof Armada lad.

Today was a healing training day, so Romulus was out in the greenhouse collecting herbs to mix into powders, salves, and decoctions with Lillith and Gwynevere when the big spotted boy found him. He greeted him friendly enough, and Roman just looked at the boy with a neutral stare until he could uncover what the larger wolf's intentions were. He introduced himself as Ezra, Lillith's brother. Ah, so he had been right, the brother! "Yeah, I'm Romulus. Or Roman, I answer to both," he said, flashing a confident smile to Ezra and nodding his head in simple greeting. "Nice to meet you too." As soon as the introductions were out of the way, Ezra invited him over for some sparring, Romulus' silver eyes following Ezra's over to the training fields. He had a suspicion that Ezra was just inviting him to have an excuse to rough him up a little bit as some sort of "Stay away from my sister" tactic, but it sounded like fun all the same, so why not humor him?

"Sure, I'm down for a spar." Roman tucked the herbs he'd gathered into the satchel he'd borrowed from the infirmary and followed Ezra over to the training fields. He slipped off the satchel and hung it from a training dummy before stepping into the nearest ring and waiting for Ezra to join him. He stretched his back, rolling his neck and shoulders to limber himself up. "So how many rounds is it gonna take to make you feel better about your sister wanting to be hang out with me every second of every day?" he asked, shooting Ezra a knowing, wry glance. Roman wasn't a dumb wolf. He knew what was up and would rather speak plainly with Ezra than dance around the subject for the sake of civility or whatever the fuck the reason was.

"Romulus Armada"