(barely held back thoughts of dog racism)

Yarou's tongue touches the roof of her mouth. She dislikes her mother's subservience, but it truly cannot be helped; her mother is quelled by years of servitude, and despite her attending to Yarou and fighting alongside her now, the woman is... a particular brand of quietly submissive that Yarou despises. Her skin itches at the sight of her mother depositing the meal before the Hattori man; as he sits before the meal, Yarou has to choke back a snarl of frustration. For a moment - that does not reach her face - she has to swallow down a simmering rage.

She does not feel this rage often, but sometimes it touches her. He says his family name and she tilts her head to one side, clearly working to recall if she's heard of any of his relatives. And, much like the man before her, Yarou's familiarity is more... passing, than incredibly familiar. "I've heard the name." She says, and then stretches out one of her back legs, letting her toes curl, letting her joint pop.

"Have you an empire of your own?" Yarou's voice is gravel-toned, her ears twitching forward. Back home, back where home had been, Yarou ventured into the old cities and took care of dogs who had evaded justice, true. But she had, in turn, directed herself towards wolves when the need arose. They were always surprised, in the end.