Clive spots you from his window, crouched near the stairs with a hand buried in thick, silvery fur. Torgal sits still under your touch, ears twitching as you scratch beneath his jaw. His frost wolf is an excellent judge of character, so if he’s warmed to you then Clive certainly has no reservations. It had been a few days since your emancipation from Bearer slavery and subsequent arrival at the Hideaway. Since then, Clive hadn’t much of a chance to interact with you, but seeing his companion grow close to you was solidifying his resolve that it was past time.

By the time he steps outside to join you, Torgal had curled at your feet, tail lazily sweeping across the stone as you pet him. Most newcomers keep a wary distance, as the frost wolf’s size alone is enough to make them nervous. But you look at ease, your fingers moving with quiet familiarity. Clive’s gaze softens. “I see you’ve met Torgal.”