Wild Rye Fields The Only Pay Off

This time, when Reyes fell into step behind the Wild Rye King, he took a place near the man’s shoulder instead. Indeed, it was easier to talk, but he had been invited – for all that he hissed and huffed about pack politics, the subtleties eluded him still. An overt invitation was the only one he was willing to accept. He might have been content to leave it there, but Drestig’s observation was too good to leave it to rest. The delta couldn’t help his small snicker.

“I’ll say.”

He could definitely consider the taste acquired, at this point. Shit, they were all but domestic. (Not that he’d admit it out loud. Not to Drestig, not to Askan, not even to himself.) The silence was easy to fall into – they stopped to mark the borders here and there – and they walked through the melting snow. Idly, Reyes found himself wondering what the Fields would look like if spring ever decided to show its face when the alpha spoke back up. The wolf paused, bracing himself for the threat that would inevitably come after the paternal remark – but none came.

Instead, it was a peace offering. The silver-eyed male paused warily, but he could see nothing behind Derstig’s smile. “It’s a start,” he replied quietly – that much, he could believe.

Fade.

(This post was last modified: May 22, 2017, 03:22 PM by Reyes.)