Dragons! Kyrios Aegina had been fortunate enough to be born amongst them, in the very nest of a budding wyrmling in fact. What a joy for an adventurer, taking his first breaths in the midst of one, and perhaps there was just a touch of serpent blood in the captain himself. He certainly didn't hesitate when the one eyed drake requested he meet him this evening, making his way to the clearing long before sunset and settling in a lump of reeds near the edge, closest to the river. As evening settled, the wind started to pick up, carrying cool air in from the water's edge, quickly dispelling the heat of the day. Kyrios pulled up his shoulders a bit, lightly shaking out his fur against the clamminess, his pelt was still thin, too thin for lying still on the moist bank.

Luckily it didn't take too long before Kjors appeared, ever punctual, and the pale pup quickly got to his feet, tail wagging behind him. The one eyed wolf, despite his grim appearance, was one of the adults the young Aegina liked best. He spend a lot of time around the pups, and just like their Moma, he was a grand story teller; In fact, the boy had to admit, he preferred the dragon's tales, as they were mostly darker and more action packed. Tonight though was about more than stories, the child had realized when he alone was invited to come, and he was close to bursting with curious excitement as he slipped free of the reeds to greet the bistre man. With his shoulders slightly crouched and rear high in the air, Kyrios crept towards the adult, reaching up to lick his chin reverently, tail continuing to wag.

"'unt?" He questioned eagerly at the dragon's words, murky eyes widening up at him. So far, the closest the pups had gotten to hunting was when an adult brought them whole, dead animals, like mice and squirrels, which wasn't really that much fun. Moma always turned up her nose, and often left them while they played with and ate the prey, but everyone else was quick to praise them. Ky was itching to try his teeth at something living though, a real challenge! Now he grinned, nodding his head; "Aye! Show me!"

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Good lad.”

There might have been one small, teeny, tiny part of Kjors Sorenson’s small black heart that had wished for a son prior to Bennet’s birth – but that was not what the Mother had deemed fit in the moment, and it wasn’t his to question the birth of his baby dragon, not when he’d been gifted a child at all.  Still, there was something supremely satisfying about being able to spend time with the other pups.  They were not his, not by blood, but--  But they were important to his daughter, and to Karina, and thusly, they were important to the dragon himself.

He reached forward, booping Kyrios gently behind one ear before brushing his tongue against the pale boy’s head twice. 

“Come with me.”  He said little else, turning on his paws as he set away from the main area of the territory.  Most critters were wise enough to stay far from where the wolves roosted; so instead, he took the pup to a quieter part of the forest, where trees reigned and the forest floor was littered with leaves and small plants.  There, he lay on his belly, and motioned the boy close.  Once Kyrios was near, he whispered.  “First,” he instructed, “we listen.  Rustlin’.  Chirpin’, chatterin’.  Gotta be real quite so they don’ know we’re here, savvy?”

Kyrios was a smart boy.  For all that the wolf had never gotten along with the boy’s mother, he’d grown quite fond of the scout’s son despite one corner of his mind insisting he keep his distance.  It all came down to Bennet, in the end – her milk siblings were good to her, and that was the only thing that mattered.  As long as it continued, then the dragon would also continue in his care for the other two children.  It was not their intention to be motherless, after all, and he could hardly blame Karina for offering herself when he’d known the woman to be nothing but giving in the first place.

Kjors kept his single eye on the young wolf as his ears twitched, eventually glancing up to trace the sound of the woodpecker.  When he opened his mouth, not a peep came out, and the dragon bumped into him gently, pleased with his self-control.  They could not catch the bird, no, but there were other critters afoot.

Ears pivoted forward before he leaned in, muzzle practically pressed to the pale child’s ear to whisper softly.  “Rustlin’, a few lengths t’yer left,” he murmured quietly.  “S’a mouse, under th’ leaves.  Think y’can try t’sneak up on it?” He bobbed his head in the general direction, where every few seconds, a leaf would move.  “See ‘em?”