Again his head tilted to one side in the middle of musing, holding his son's gaze for a moment, even after the prince had given Angier's chin a respectful graze of his tongue. "If ya stay with us, yes, ya might hafta to outsmart yer competition - yer brothers - before you can find yerself as Leader, but no matter what ya choose, I'm sure you can do it. Whatever yer heart so desires." He lifted his paw then, taking a step forward and giving his tail a lofty wag as he stretched in the frigid, early morning air. "Come along then," he invited Deacon as he slowly began to walk towards a willow. "Let's take a stroll, we can continue to talk along the way an' get somethin' to eat."

He ducked beneath frost-covered canopy, staring at his son through the veil with a humored smile, "If ya sit fer too long you'll freeze yer tail to the ground." He canted his head once more in a gesture to Deacon to catch up, holding his head high as his bottlebrush of a tail gently wagged behind him. "I'll take ya ta Fireweed Rise if ya want. Should be some good spots for small game."

For a moment he waited for his first-born to gain on him, then, once in step with one another, he leapt into something like a playful game of chase, daring the prince to follow. The afternoon would be filled with conversation, that much was for sure; what's more was the fact that for what would seem like the first time in the history of the Lyall bloodline (as far as Angier was aware), a father actually spent the time with one of his own, relishing in the hours taken to forge a proper relationship between parent and child.

(Angier exit.)