Parental instinct is almost completely out of his wheelhouse. Fenrir is trained for war and devastation. And yet, this little round ball of feathers hits him in exactly the way a cub of his own, theoretically, would, of he'd ever had one. "I love." He declares definitively, and bonks Chomp gently with his nose as if to encourage the play.

"Yes. We will be friends." He glances over at Karlach curiously. "You are a soldier? A warrior?"