Stavanger Bay that you steal from me the sorrow that i've earned

The first to arrive was a lithe creature, afflicted with an abundance of youth that at first perplexed, then bored, Tetsubo. He saw her ambling figure in the distance and found himself tensing as she charged headlong towards the pair of them; but upon carefully ascertaining from Skellige that this woman was not to be feared, much as a new pup might study a foreign adult, he did relax. Her exuberance and strangeness aside, she seemed more interested in prostrating herself before the swarthy master than anything else. It was a strange series of events. Never before had Tetsubo witnessed such a display of garish submission—then again, his role had never been to submit, but to dominate, and in the name of whoever held his metaphorical leash. All he could hope (and hope he did, desperately, somewhere inside) was that this behavior was not required of himself.

Skellige did not punish the girl for her strangeness, but seemed to cater to it. The boy watched him administer some sort of wet affection upon the oddities head; but there was movement again, and so with keen reflexes the boy shifted on his paws as made to intercept the newest arrival, as his master was occupied and laying across the loam, seemingly defenseless. Yet as soon as the warrior locked gazes with the petite creature, this fine-boned wraith of the fores, he saw the sweetness of her face, and heard the curious lilt of her voice. Again his attention shifted back to Skellige; he kept his eyes upon the white wolf, but his ears twisted, and he listened to their exchange, keen on adhering to Skellige's order should he give it. But there was no order, and this wolf too was welcomed among them.

The boy relaxed far more swiftly this second time, but found he could not take his eyes off of the dainty she-wolf as she worried over him. Her tiny question - May I? - drifted through Tetsubo's mind, but he did not give any assertion for or against the request. To the boy, that decision was up to Skellige, who swiftly voiced that both women look him over for injury. They would find few physical indicators of the events: Bruising to his flesh which was still only blossoming, a crack to one rib or another, the deviation of his pupil, a ragged sound as he breathed. Tetsubo kept the pain in check simply by willing it, as he was trained, but he did experience it sharply, and though his breathing was a bit labored he seemed almost healthy.

After a few moments of his standing-at-attention, Tetsubo broke his gaze from the pale girl and looked to the ground, as if in wait for his inspection.