There he is, in the kitchen. The scent of it had very nearly crawled under his door, but he'd smelt it far from down the hall. His sister had told him that this 'wolf head soup' was his favourite; he'd trust her on that. He was unsure as to why he couldn't remember his supposed last visit here. As far as Vice was concerned, he'd been with Mother the entire time. But he figured he'd have to trust Visi on a lot of things while he was here.
Chewing on the inside of his cheek absently, he peered down over into the pot of the wolf head soup. The head of the brown wolf he'd caught and killed, and partially dismembered by his sister's request, was definitely there in the soup. "I've never eaten something like this before," he said absentmindedly. "Ah, or, I don't remember. But I'm excited." He's not sure if he's using that word correctly, but oh well.