Merlin! A wolf!

"Well, I suppose we should count our blessings," Brannon said, shaking his head in bemusement. He wasn't sure that it seemed particularly out of character for Arven to consider a wolf a pet; it seemed only mildly less likely than turning up at the front door with an albino rodent on his shoulder. "The neighborhood cats certainly wouldn't have liked that," he pointed out. Arven hadn't exactly allayed his worries regarding Virgil the ferret, but given the alternative was so much worse, Brannon had to put such fears on the backburner. He supposed there was nothing to be done now, anyway, since the little thing had scampered off. He'd just have to see whether any of the neighbors had complaints in the morning and field them then — assuming, of course, that the ferret made it home safely that night, which Brannon wasn't convinced of yet despite his nephew's assurances.

"What brought you there?" he asked, moving to transition towards his seat at the table so that they could begin dinner.