Oblivious to the image he must present (a grown man, cooing at a wolf? rather goofy, don't you think?), Harry continues to make an absolute fool of himself as he leans forwards and stretches an arm out - the back of his hand extended to Kyra invitingly. "Good Kyra," he soothes. Silly wizards getting psyched up about animals.

He holds for a beat, before wincing softly when he straightens, a hand gingerly pressed to his ribs. "His name is Mouse, and he's just a very big puppy." He was also sorely missed. "You see what I put up with," Harry is quick to wiggle a hand at John and roll his eyes. Perhaps not as cruelly as he had been earlier, when it was just the two of them.