Time goes by so quickly -- the children have grown considerably, still tiny, strange things, but turning into tiny strange things with voices, with more complex wants and interests. Sometimes Étoille feels guilty for his interest in them -- they aren't really his (and he doesn't mind that), and Furi's absence still weighs on him. 

But he doesn't exactly have much else to busy himself with, beyond occasionally bringing some food to the cache or to Wildfire, and truthfully he's finding he just enjoys the company of children. It started with Furi, and continued with the children of Blackfeather, who he still wonders about from time to time. 

In any case. Today he has taken up a space near the den as usual, poking his head in to see if Wildfire will allow them to spend a little time outside in the grassy space just adjacent (and offering to let her take a break if she needs, of course.)

Kiwi is the first to greet him, joined shortly by Bat. Her question does not phase him despite the many times he's prevented her from falling from the safety of the den. Children are.. small. And they do not always remember. But Kiwi haughtily answers before he can, and he smiles gently at the butchering of his name. "I am 'Tol," he agrees, adopting the nickname easily and meeting her tiny battering paws with a gentle nudge of his nose. "You are les petits, he tells them, a slightly teasing tone coloring his voice. He won't use choupinou again -- that is Furi -- but collectively he thinks of them this way: the little ones.

Amused, he laughs gently, not bothering to correct either of their pronunciations. They definitely lack the attention span for a lesson proper-- although Étoille is certainly charmed by the idea of them picking up a little French (it's sentimental, you know). They probably will just through exposure. (He kind of hopes.)

To Bat's question he says, "little one," reaching to gently tap her on the head with his snout as Kiwi goes for her tail. Stifling another laugh he reaches out to nudge Kiwi away from the subject of her torment, prepared to accept whatever redirection/consequences might ensure.

Ah. Étoille is unperturbed by Bat's... deposit, having spent the past few weeks watching them make all manner of messy bodily functions. Babies. "Perhaps we shall return to the den," he suggests gently as Kiwi buries herself in his paws, giving the top of her head a lick. He rises to his feet, nudging Kiwi back in the direction of the den before going to pick up Bat, suspecting she won't move unless he actively does so.

Bat is easily returned but Kiwi seems to still have excess energy. Étoille is happy to indulge her, reaching down to take a gentle hold on the stick profferred. He allows her to tug him this way and that, offering enough resistance to be worthwhile as an adversary but ultimately letting the girl win, until she settles down enough that he feels free to take his leave, satisfied.