Lake Rodney shapeshift conductor for your spark

Mato’s teasing snicker chips away a corner of Cypress’ sinister countenance, and he reacts for the first time in a truly animated way: a curl of scarred lips and a glint of alabaster fangs that, despite its menacing appearance, is completely innocuous. It’s accompanied by a short, soft chuff that is the unfinished prelude to a chuckle, a patently unamused glare, and a hearty thump of his tail: the lupine equivalent of, “Oh, shut up.”

His grim visage settles back into a collection of sharp angles and harsh planes as he responds easily, “It’s nice. Better’n the alternative.” He could — and probably should — just stop there, but a sudden urge to talk takes hold of the generally taciturn eidolon. “My biological brother is Rannoch — Noch — but we’ve been traveling with our cousin Rian and we’ve been together through so much it’s just easier to call us all brothers. Noch and me, our parents — ” His throat tightens, but he soldiers through. “Our parents were killed by a bear last winter, and Rannoch went away for awhile to grieve. I stayed behind to guard the evergreens until a stranger tried to claim them — and, well…she bested me. After that, it just wasn’t home anymore.” He shrugs, striving for nonchalance.

It’s at this point that Cypress pauses to consider Mato’s conciliatory reassurances, and he offers the celestial prince a lopsided grin. “I don’t know if you’d call Noch a naturalist,” he says. He knows what the word means by context but he’s never said it aloud before, and he’s certainly never heard it used in reference to his brother. “He probably knows one or two, though — and if he doesn’t, Rian might,” the raven muses. Rannoch is truly the face of their gang, and it’s fair to say that he’s way more acquainted with its members than his recluse of a brother. Tryp and Pyro in particular seem to be wary of Cypress, and he can’t say he minds all that much. They’re flighty, with tripping tongues and shuffling feet to match, and the eldest Frostfur doesn’t see the appeal. This kid is all right, though. Talks a bit funny and really likes trees, but he’s steady enough. “Want to meet them?” he asks finally, meeting the boy’s apple green gaze.