For a few blinking moments, Skandranon has no idea what to say to that. The word, partner rings in his heart like battle-cry, like a repressed keen, and he flushes to the nares to be so flattered. Despite his bluster, Skan never quite knows how to face with this sort of real, genuine praise.

"If ever you are a burden, my friend," Skan replies, eventually, feeling as if his voice is as thick as beeswax in his throat, "You are one I have chosen and will choose again, and that is a privilege to carry. Urtho made my back strong and my wings broad for a reason, and it's the whole point of family to share burdens as well as joys. Isn't it?"

He spreads the wing on Viktor's side, draping it over his head and shoulders, and the back of his chair, like a brotherly buffet, the bracing pressure of solidarity. We're in this together, you and I. For better, worse, and all else in between.