[Byleth hadn't known that legend - barely knew anything about the nations of Fódlan except that they existed and that their various differences was a constant source of coin for mercenaries like him. He looked down at the Golden Deer sitting innocuously in his lap, soft and adorable and not at all like a fierce protector.

But he understood the symbolic sentiment - and the pragmatism. Claude couldn't spend every other night with him, just because Byleth was irrationally paranoid about sleeping alone to the point of near self-destruction. This was a gentle compromise, one that Byleth was grateful for all the same.]

...then, I'm very grateful that your esteemed Golden Deer has deemed me worthy of his protection. Does he have a name?