It definitely wasn't what either of his parents had in mind for him but hey, to him it sounded like a damn good - and fun! - idead. Who would have thought he'd find himself some old merchenary to teach him the tricks of the trade? Hah! Soon, he'd be tearing around Moladion with the skillset of a true master - fast, strong, cunning and talented. He'd have it all! Really, he'd outdo Jackdaw. He knew that. The man was old and lazy but Israfel? He had, or he believed at least, an unquenchable fire in his belly that meant he'd grow into some grand knight, to be sure. Israfel the Great! It had a ring to it, right?

But he hadn't anticipated a storm and damn, the storm really did a number on all of his plans. He had planned to master hunting over the winter and then, come spring, he'd master tracking. Everything was planned! But no, the storm had come and it had done a fine job forcing him into hiding. Maybe he should have left before it struck but who learnt anything by running away? Besides, he had been born in Moladion's coldest reaches. A little snow never hurt him.

Anyway, he had been finding quite a few interesting things in the storm. Once, he had found a great stick that had blown in from the forests; he had pulled it from the snow and dragged it to his rocky alcove, a new marker that stood proud and tall in the gusts. Then, he had come across a frozen hare. It was...awful, really. He couldn't even bite it. So, what to do? He had buried it - for Jackdaw. A lovely gift, no? He couldn't help but smirk and bound as he plowed through the snow on his next adventure.

"Oh." He was startled at first. "Herbs?" He leaned down to sniff at them. Intestine - kidn of ew - but herbs! His tail waved despite the violence of the storm, his woolly coat like a giant sweater in those moments. But then, something much more dramatic - barking! Now that really caught him off guard and he instinctively barked back before clearing his throat, momentarily ashamed at himself for being so startled. It was in his desperate attempt to look around, making sure nobody had seen him, that he noticed the appearance of pale fur and dark lips in the snow. Her voice had become quieter, and he felt...driven towards her. Like a true knight!

Maybe he should have asked first. Instead, he reached out with all his might and grabbed what she could of her scruff and then - with all his budding strength - he pulled and pulled, intent on dragging her out of whatever trouble she had found herself in. In those moments, he could have sworn he practically heard his father reminding him how to be poised and calm, effecient and steadfast. It wouldn't take long to get her out and when he did? Well, he hadn't planned for that.