Set the traps and stomp the grounds

Sirius

The Warlord came trotting back to the communal space not long after. He had increased the patrols at the borders in case anyone got wind of their moment of weakness. Briar was running her inventory of the knocks and crannies of the pack, and Art and Mortis were working on emptying and drying any surviving supplies.

He arrived to find Mortis had started the fire, and was receiving goods handed to him by Iris - who had given up on her duty of seeing purely to Zee, and had become a busy body seeing to the pack's supplies. He narrowed his eyes at her, holding her gaze for a moment, before lifting his nose in the direction of Zee. The annoyance was plain in his expression and the flick of his tail. Had she let Zee throw her off so easily? He needed her to have enough of a spine to stand up to Zee when she tried to shrug off help. She still had too much healing to do after her ordeal.

He shook his head, and moved to Zee, brushing a paw where she stood by the celler door - decidedly not sitting by the fire. He just wanted her to recover and be happy, the only way he knew how it seemed, was by forcing unwanted comforts onto her - before hopping down into the cellar where Art was pulling out supplies. “Is it as bad as it looked?” he asked, requesting a report from the boy.

"Speech"

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Set the traps and stomp the grounds

Zee

Sirius