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The yearling recognized the same old pattern as she spoke—offering him nothing but a shortened sentence without an answer. The male’s golden neck bended slightly as Larkspur confirmed what was expected. Ears flickered backward; leaning towards his upper neck in a light distaste for this situation. He had once been the little girl’s guardian, but her body was that of an adolescent and so she could no longer play the role of the small, misunderstood child. The Soul male was so happy to see her alive and well though; had definitely thought her dead. Young children were usually unable to care for themselves, and her case was a severe one, as she would continue on with a body where pain should scream when bones broke and illness ravaged through her. She ought to be grateful for her ridiculous amount of luck.
Lavender gaze returned to the sable furred girl before them. He knew his feelings should require him to take her in immediately, but things were always a bit more complicated when you rose up a bit and could watch the synopsis of procedures. She had to be able to co-exist with her fellow pack mates and them with her. ”So, why are you here?” He wondered, the usual warmness not absent from the soft tenor. ”Are you merely passing through or do you wish to live with us again?” It was not fair if they were the ones to have to drag answers out of the girl. It seemed Larkspur already had gone through some of that (this was Conor’s guess) and the golden man wondered if some of the instincts within her who ought to have developed during these last months would remind her how one should behave towards superior wolves.