It was a lot to remember – keeping his ears forward, his tail lifted, his eyes focused on her face, and so on and so forth – while also trying to appear approachable and not let his guard down. This stuff was sort of hard, and he found himself inwardly wondering at how his mother did it so effortlessly. It was perhaps lucky for the boy that the first encounter of such a variety was with a female so kind hearted. Back and forth his tail slowly waved, the multitude of colors in his eyes finally coming to rest upon her face as she spoke. All the while he remained quiet, letting her say what she wished before he would reply. Slowly his tail began to fall, not because he was nervous or submissive in her presence, but simply because with each word she spoke he became more and more comfortable and began to take a liking to her. But always the appendage waved back and forth, a steady pendulum-like movement.

His confidence was bolstered by the way she spoke to him, not as if he were some foolhardy pup, but rather an equal. Even as his tail lowered in a sign of ease, his head lifted to show his pride. Ears of midnight hue almost seemed to strain forward in interest when she spoke of potentially telling stories in exchange for a place here. Rhaegal had always enjoyed listening to stories that his mother and uncle told him, about the bravery shown by wolves of their family tree. Singing songs and telling stories was something that Uncle Taliesin loved to do, and so any time he looked after the royal children they were enraptured by his narrative. For a moment the slate hued boy was given to wonder if he thought his uncle was such a great storyteller, was it possible that someone from a distant land – these Windellands as she called them – might have even grander tales to tell? The possibility caused the tempo of his wagging tail to increase.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sorcha; I’m Rhaegal, and the territory you’ve landed in is Spirane, my home.” He did his very best to show her the same politeness she had shown him, but always trying to keep at the forefront of his mind that as a prince he was responsible for the wellbeing of the pack, just like any other member was. Regardless, she had given him no reason not to trust her. She had been honest about why she was here, she’d even announced her presence to the whole mountain when she’d come to realize her transgression. And best of all, she had stories to share.

Before he could say anything else, a delayed answering howl lifted across the mountains, probably late because she had woken to find one of her pups missing. Rhaegal’s ears flicked backwards, listening to his mother’s voice as it resonated through the pack lands. As her voice faded his audits tipped forward once more. “Mom – er, I mean, Queen Daenerys, is on her way. But it might take her a little while to get here. Maybe you could tell me one of your stories while we wait, and if I like it, I could put in a good word for you?” He grinned at Sorcha with a playful look in his eye, hoping she would take the bait.