Brannon had stumbled (actually moved very gracefully) into worry mode. Arven had always known him to be a warrior in some ways, and a worrier in others. Strong but very human. But short of trapping Virgil in a shield charm, there was nothing Arven could do to entirely alleviate his concerns, so Arven simply smiled, opened the door, and set the ferret down on the doorstep. Virgil twitched his nose then scuttled off to investigate a nearby tree. ”It’ll be fine”, he soothed his uncle, and meant it. Yes Virgil hunted, but he wouldn’t get away with his whiskers if he set his eyes on a cat.

”Darkest Siberia”, Arven “corrected” Roslyn for dramatic effect, swinging round to regard her. ”I very nearly brought back a wolf instead of a ferret”, he added with a twinkle.