A Princess doesn't get their paws dirty

As per his sire's instruction, the burly yearling plodded towards the storage room. He mostly followed Kite's scent, now that she was on the move to start the work. Hardly keen to do most of the work himself, Stratum had made a point of lounging in her general vicinity, out of sight and out of mind, until she was done griping about the chores. Giving her a head start, the dun coloured male then meandered along after her. So when he strolled in, she was already getting to work. "You want to take the front half, or the back half?" he drawled with a lopsided grin as he squeezed past her and started to really survey the situation. It wasn't going to be a particularly quick task, but it didn't look.. overly intensive. Some of the half-assed attempts at partitioning goods was obvious enough, so they would just have to properly separate everything. Probably rearrange the boxes and chests that stored the smaller items. Nothing crazy. Probably.

One massive paw reached out to overturn a crate that was overflowing with bundled furs. Maybe he would sort them a bit better, remove the wools and sheepskins into a different container, since they were usually used for different things than the rest of the pelts they kept. "I haven't seen you in a little bit, hey? Been out exploring?" he asked, rumbling baritones kept at a low volume. The caves carried sound so well that he never needed to raise his voice, and the whole notion of shouting was nearly unpalatable to the blond boy at this point.