Sun Mote Copse Sanitized, alone.

Fig smiled appreciatively at her when she responded. He knew he had likely blindsided her with this. He was a quiet wolf--dutiful and loyal, never a complaint to be heard past his lips. Honestly, complaints rarely even existed in his head up until his trip to Moonspear had begun to fill him with doubts about himself. He wondered if he'd just have been content to carry on forever, patrolling borders, sparring with sticks and milling about if it hadn't been for his trip. Was he grateful to have had his eyes opened? He wasn't sure yet.

He frowned when she cut off, stopping in his tracks and gazing intently at her. Fig had opened his mouth to ask if she was alright when she popped a question he had not at all been prepared for. Lead a pack of his own?

Figment blinked at her in surprise. Sure, he'd been comparing himself to Osiris and feeling inadequate, but it had never even crossed his mind that he ought to be leading his own pack. He didn't know what to say at first, but eventually he gave a nervous chuckle. "No, I haven't," he answered, "But I have a feeling you're going to make me start." Because once it was planted, how could he ignore the idea? Even if it was ludicrous. Who would even follow him?