The ghost snorted in amusement but did not disagree with his ebony companion. Little Risaela was fond of those who let her get away with mischief—as she should. Now was the time for her to learn right from wrong and make mistakes; Lachesis could not be angry with her for embracing her youth before she was thrust into the world of adulthood. Pack law would be instilled into them soon enough, but for now there was only so much they could comprehend without overwhelming them.
His chartreuse gaze narrowed slightly as he watched the large male greet the ground with his stomach and dangle his forepaws into the soft-flowing river. Since the rain had dispersed the river had returned to normal, although its levels were still abnormally high. XIX figured it had to do with the abundance of snow the Lore received over the winter. The mountains were melting and the rivers (and lakes) were swelling. Lachesis just hoped they did not endure a second flood in the Kingswood. The pair did not have many tension free moments so he, too, was enjoying the informality of their conversation. Being serious all the time was rather exhausting—especially when it was not necessary.
His ear twitched as the dark male spoke once more, a single brow lifting. Thanked him? Lachesis was confused. It had not really been his decision to allow @Aytigin to join Hearthwood. Kisla had more or less bullied Lorcán and Lachesis into graciously accepting the casanova’s request to reside in Hearthwood. “I’m glad to hear that, Aytigin,” he responded coolly with a soft wag of his tail. His words dripped with honesty as his lips curled into a smile. “I have noticed the continuous effort you’ve been putting in and I appreciate it. Have you thought of pursuing a role just yet?”
stick with those who stick with you