Neverwinter Forest Would you accept someone like me?

Quick posts to get all of my threadlogs up to date. ♥ I am sorry for the lack of quality and length.

Comforted by the appearance of his brother, Cypress waited patiently for the barrel-chested, bulkier cub to clamber atop the boulder, nibbling affectionately at Rannoch’s broader shoulder once the grayscale boy was suitably situated. All the while, he listened to Kendra’s explanation, his ears fanning to nestle against his skull before springing forward in vague indecision. “Then…how can I know?” he asked rather desperately. “How can I know at all?” It distressed him to think that he might have friends who were actually foes in disguise — but he comforted himself with the fact that most of his “friends” were actually family members. Surely, that meant they were foolproof and trustworthy. “Mama says lies’re like dandelions when you blow on ‘em,” he ventured. “Once you tell one you can’t pick all the lie pieces back up, and even if nobody can see ‘em at first, they grow big later and everyone can see.” He reassured himself that even if he was in such a horrendous situation, eventually he’d see the foe for what it was, though there was yet an untouched, innocent part of him that believed that sort of betrayal happened only in stories.

“You should be a friend,” he advised her then, looking to Noch for confirmation of his words. “If you were a foe we’d hafta chase you away.” Cypress was utterly serious, his brow smooth and calm as he resumed his role as the Benevolent King. Automatically he swept Rannoch up in his play — he was the Gray King, just as benevolent, but with a more commanding air. When she mentioned she didn’t have a home, supposing that the boys had little say in who was permitted to live in the forest, Cypress immediately interjected. “Yes, we do!” he staunchly said, nudging his brother shoulder to shoulder. “Right, Noch?” Surely they had some say in who joined the Neverwinter wolves. He answered her questions with the blithe ingenuousness befitting his age. “This pack is nice,” he said simply, “but if you want to live here, you hafta ask our paw. And — and — ” At a loss for words, he whispered to Noch in a hasty aside, “What else?” He hadn’t asked for her name or trades; it had totally slipped his mind.