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Magnus knows, being Pack leader comes with responsibility. What Magnus also knows is that the human pup will sneak the pack treats whenever Master is not looking and give him all the belly rubs he wants.
It's a good life. A life of comfort, safety, and love.
With three hearty meals a day and the warmth of their den, the younger pups can sleep soundly while the pack ventures out on hunts alongside Master.
Today is different. Master has come to visit with her own pup and the Tall Lady who smells like wood smoke, leather and gunpowder.
Tall Lady is a strange one. While she looks like she could easily snap Master in half, Tall Lady seems to submit to Master almost instinctively. Magnus understands, it is the natural order of things after all.
As soon as they get through the gate, he trots up to Master and sits in front of her, tail wagging and eager to greet her.
“Hello there, Magnus”. Cassandra says as she lightly pats his head and gently scratches between his ears.
“Word has it, there have been new pups, yes?”. Grayson asks.
“Why? Do you want one, sheriff?”. The matriarch responds, mischief glinting in her eyes and a playful grin dancing on her lips.
“No, thank you. I know what they are like before your kennelmaster puts them through training. I'd like my home and furniture to remain in one piece”. The sheriff laughs.
Caitlyn, brimming with youthful energy, interjects “Do you want to see the pups, Grayson?”. She asks in the excitable tone of any 12-year-old girl who is faced with the prospect of meeting cute animals.
Before Grayson can answer, Cait has taken off, Magnus in tow.
The sheriff watches, an eyebrow arching as she notices the furrow on Cassandra's brow.
“I know that face. What is it, Kiramman?” she asks, her tone taking on a teasing lilt.
Cassandra huffs, unamused. Curse Grayson’s perceptive nature; it seems nothing ever slips by her sharp gaze.
“I dismissed neither my daughter or my dog and yet they both strutted off”. She replies, her voice tinged with fond exasperation.
“Seems like the young Kiramman has the pack wrapped around her finger, huh?”. Grayson teases, smug as a cat who got the cream.
“Close to two years of training and constant reinforcement and yet, they all follow Cait more readily than they follow me” Cassandra grumbles “We had one of last year's pups, Eris, who refused to fall in line, no matter the approach. The kennel keeper suggested we dispose of her, after he almost got bit. I was still mulling it over when Cait came over with Tobias, beelined to Eris and her siblings and gave her belly rubs”.
“I bet that must have given you a few new gray hairs”. Grayson quips.
“Of course it did! And I only got more of them once I found out from one of the maids that my daughter was sneaking out of her room late at night and coming here to take Eris into the house. Her reasoning? She felt it was important for Eris to feel appreciated, since clearly we were all training her wrong”.
Cassandra continues, her frustration boiling over into a mixture of amusement and concern.
"Now you know how your mother must have felt when you were Caitlyn's age". Grayson counters, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of her lips.
“Must you gloat like this? Besides, let me remind you that whenever I gave my mother a scare, you were also involved!”.
Cassandra shoots back, though she can no longer fight the smile creeping up on her face.
Grayson smiles back, thinking fondly of those carefree days.
"Fair enough. Now, let's catch up with that wild daughter of yours before she marches the whole pen into the house".
"Please do NOT speak such calamity into existence".