first patrols

Hazel assesses the boy coolly as he arrives, a bit late but apologetic. "No miss, just Hazel." The idea of being miss made her feel... weird, actually. She wasn't that much older than they were, and even if she was? Maybe it was the inherently feminine nature of using a title like that, or maybe it was something else. Being reminded that she'd actually survived this long? Maybe. Still, she's able to refocus on the task at hand fairly easily. Hazel squints at the pup, trying to get some sort of read on him, but not trying particularly hard.

"I understand you're interested in fighting, and an important duty of our fighters is going on patrol." She began, watching the pup carefully for any sort of reaction. "You're going on market patrol with me today." It comes off a bit less gently than Hazel typically is with the pups, but that shouldn't matter. Brisk, businesslike. This was a lesson for him, but she was still on high alert-- it's still her patrol. Hazel begins to walk in the direction of the market itself without hearing any protest or input from the yearling. There was work to do.

"What do you see?" It was still reasonably quiet in the market, things hadn't quite warmed up this far north for the true busy season. Still, there were a fair few wolves mixing and mingling about, including at least two the girl made a mental note to keep an eye on. She wanted to know if the yearling had picked up on them as well, as well as why they might be persons of interest.

"Speech"