Conan turns his head toward you, sniffing your hair before giving a happy sigh.

The wolf had found you a few days ago, passed out in the snow in his forest, nearly dead. He'd taken you back to his den and provided you with heat and food.

With a grunt, he rises, his form huge in contrast to yours as he slowly pads away from you to sit at the entrance of the cozy den. Conan's blue eyes rake over the snowy expanse of forest lying beyond.

The snow is falling slower now, but just a few hours ago, it'd been incredibly packed. Even the foxes further up north had left to go hide.

He glances back at you, a fond look appearing in his eyes. A low rumble of approval and affection emits from his chest.