Blackfeather Woods infinity doesn't have your picture in its locker

The tears in her eyes had caused his heart the lurch, making him swallow in the process to perhaps right his innards. He had overreacted, but would never take back having done so, feeling it better to be safe rather than sorry. No matter what anyone might say, she was his daughter, and so he needed to ensure she was always kept safe and raised in a proper environment. It was his goal to succeed in doing so, to succeed in being the father for her that he'd been unable to be for his blood-related daughters. When she'd wedged herself into a space, he'd made sure not to move his limb and risk upsetting her, lowering his head down instead so that his chin touched the ground beside her. He was there to watch over her, and could only hope that he might always be, for he'd not give up on being there to watch her grow.

By the time he'd started to speak, his head had been pulled up, confident that she was fine. Still, his gaze did not stray far at all, focusing upon her face once she'd rolled over to look up at him. Towards her a smile was offered, and his words momentarily forgotten as the Inuit observed her trying to swipe at him. Unable to resist, he'd lowered his muzzle so that he could gently poke at her stomach, pulling away quickly but still keeping his nose just within her reach.