He wasn't sure, but he was
pretty sure that the cubs were around three months old. Which meant several things. Namely, that they
probably wouldn't break if he was too rough them. But also it meant that they could venture out a bit on their own and had enough words that they could hold a small conversation. He knew this because he had seen one of them out quite a ways from the den the other day, and on a separate occasion had heard another one talking Gent's ear off about nothing in particular. Which meant maybe they could talk
his ear off a bit, now. Maybe he had been a bit over-cautious to impose such a strict quarantine on himself, but he was just so
unsure. No one had invited him to see the puppies, and that was about as much of a stop sign as he required.
But this time he felt a little bold. Casually, he walked past the den. He forced his tail up away from his ankles and hummed vaguely. If a wolf could have whistled, he would have surely been doing it now. Everything about him screamed that he was trying as hard as he could to look like he was minding his own business. He hope it came off that way.
God did he want the puppies to think he was cool.
Did the puppies even know what cool
was? @
Gent was cool. They probably knew that. And it would be very obvious to anyone with just a single glance that Octavius, despite having all the genetics, was very far from Gent in terms of
cool.