Sawtooth Spire wrong side of the tracks

One word. He got a one word response. His face fell flat as he was was left to mentally fill in the rest of that sentence. They had a son with similar coloring to his own. That didn't actually surprise him considering the way genetics were supposed to work and all of that. He lifted a brow to her. The red-orange coloring that had given him several names akin to fire wasn't life changing news, nor was it disappointing. Did Tonravik take issue with his own coloring?

He might have asked, but it was evident his mate had exhausted her word quota for the day. His ears fell as the rest of his words were met with silence. Their conversation was over. Just once, he wished he could be the one to decide when they were done speaking.

A puff of air escaped him as he lifted to his feet. If there was nothing more to entertain here he'd best be off to more useful, practical things.

-fade thread-