The Heartwood the wolf and the lion

Bristled and pendulous, his tail swung back and forth as an unconscious reminder of his contained delight. Rickon would be content forever to listen to the sprite's sagas, but he could smell on her the cadence of a pack, meaning she had a home to return to and limited time to share with the rangy vagabond. "Well sure, they sound scary, but I bet I could take one on if I had to!" He admitted with a confidence he'd obviously been lacking before, forgetting his uncertainty for the time being. "I mean, I'd probably wind up like this fella, here," the boy chuckled, motioning over his shoulder at the lion's remains, "but hey— at least you'll be able to tell some pretty rockin' stories about me afterwards, right?"