Solulfur had not yet seen the pups. She was conscious of her lack of blood bond to them, and their parents' intense watchfulness that left the area surrounding the den thick with their scents. She remembered some of her experiences with her younger cousins - Mani's frail body but bright demeanor and Sunna's boisterous joy and bizarre dizzy spells. The pups would be unleashed upon the pack when they were of due age, and Solulfur would be politely invited to meet them when the parents were ready. That, and she'd been busy - the hunt for the runes was a constant weight on her mind, and the result was that Sol's usual efforts to do her duty for the children ended up being taking watch perched on a nearby cliffside or hilltop, or dropping off a half-eaten carcass after her nightmares turned her stomach and robbed her of her appetite.
She was not expecting to see the pups until they were freed of the confines of the den, with a hovering Golde or looming Hexx in tow, but see a pup abscond she did, anyway. Solulfur was sprawled on her side in the spring sunshine on a hillside well within her view of the den's mouth, keeping an eye on the surrounding area while, hopefully, the new parents got some rest. While she was awake and alert, reclining in the soft grass and the scent of her pack surrounding her, healthy and strong, was as good as any fitful sleep Solulfur could be getting.
Her attention snapped to the inkblot that appeared at the dark mouth of the den with much the same efficient intensity she might've paid a rabbit she was about to give chase to, but the focus of the Black Sun's molten gold gaze and flinty attention was purely that of a guardian.
She had not expected one of the whelps to escape, but the effort to do so was a good sign. Her expression remained mostly stormy, as it often was, but a faint glimmer of icy approval glittered in her gaze as the she-wolf got to her paws. Brisk, loose and nonthreatening strides closed the distance between herself and the dark whelp glowering in the warm sunbeams. Solulfur halted about a wolf-length or two from the boy; close enough for him to toddle to her safely if he desired, without crowding him. She was aware they had not been introduced, and did not wish to alarm him.
Inside, though, her blood was howling with joy at the sight of the chunky puppy. Solulfur had been raised amongst kin; raised to understand that children were her legacy whether or not she bore blood-ties to them. She gave the boy a soft, encouraging chuff low in her throat, swaying her tail loosely by her ankles. This was, despite the instant fondness she had attached to the child blearily observing the span of the earth before him, a test.
She was nothing if not fra Nordri, and fra Nordri were cut of the cloth of ice and sea - it took a worthy wolf to stand on this mountain. If the boy had not yet learned how to wield the unique strengths within him, well, it was Sol's duty and honor to teach.
