Hideaway Strath And what we got, got no hold on me

His eyes would never turn to meet the child, though his ears were intent upon ensuring she would follow at his beckon.

To train. The hound answered coldly, eyes lit with a burning hue. 

Aside from Alduin, this whelp was the only other student he would welcome to learn all of what he knew. She would be the second, but not the last.

Continuing on, he whisked through the trees, a portion of his attention focused on the sound of the whelp's soundly patter. They would need to be secluded, hidden, protected. Nothing grave could befall the child — not while in his care. Fury would never hear of it, nor would he bear to see it unfold.