Hushed Willows Could've been the wine

He wouldn't tolerate interjection from the others- though he did note that the wolf, called Caw, did seem to feel a bit of pressure perhaps, as the others tried to vie for the cougar's attention. He wondered how this might create a rift betweent he wolves assembled- if he would stay true to his packmates and refuse to answer the cougar out of solidarity...But Virtute had a way of piquing interest, and a knack for choosing where he should invest his energy. The male who continued to drawl, and regard him with a suspicious squint spoke up- but even Caw did nothing more than flick an ear in his direction. Virtute's plan was working. He'd snagged Caw's attention. 

The crow on the wolf's shoulder didn't seem terribly pleased- at least, Virtute could only assume that it felt uncomfortable under the feline's focused gaze. Even when the dog did a little happy dance, causing Virtute's eyes to gleam just a bit more, the crow remained in place. Bonded, then, he thought. He'd chosen the right wolf to address indeed- perhaps he might be the one to understand the fact that Virtute had- in some fashion- bonded with his charge, who was of another species. But he wouldn't bring her up just yet. He had a polite host to address. 

"Virtute," He said softly, rubbing his muzzle against the branch again. "And your friend, the crow, with the very fine feathers? What do you call them?" He asked. He assumed that the crow had been the one to share its plumage with the male- and he still took an interest in them...No matter how large and kingly he grew, a part of him could always be transformed into a kitten should a feather flitter by.