Emberwood I don't mind the thorns

Verra nice tae meet ye, lass, Pyg rumbled warmly, smiling. Her question brought his grin even further light, and he paused for a moment to ponder the right words. A mate is someone ye love verra much, aye? Someone ye care aboot more than anyone else. Someone ye want tae have children with.

He opened his mouth, about to add something about her father and mother—but realized she hadn't mentioned a mother. Was she half-orphaned, then? Or—

—stop. Don't think it.—

Instead, he let his good nature override the dark thoughts, relaxing into his smile. What sort of training do ye want to do? Hunting, fighting? I may be able tae help ye wi' some o' that, Pyg said, his voice sincere. It had been a while since he'd mentored a youngster; it would be good practice for his upcoming litter.