He can smell the anger returning, simmering beneath the surface of Isaac, reined in but still very present, and it fills him with unease. Vargulf, part of his mind supplies, but not quite. It's not just anger, and they're holding it back. All the same, disquieting.

Peter hears his name, but it's pretty obvious this conversation isn't about him. The more human parts of his mind are only barely curious, the wolf doesn't care at all. He huffs out a breath, backs up a step and then bounds off into the gardens. He'll be back in a bit, but for now there are things to sniff and trees to mark and emotional conversations to avoid.