Iktome Plains sugar, spice, and everything nice

On certain days, the tricolored youth was a wise woman. On other days, the fae has rebounded to her playful antics. Though he was older and more settled into simply existing and protecting, he romped around and behind the youth every now and then, relishing the energy she roused in him. He refused to grow too old, lest he be unable to enjoy the wonders of children. He surely would do poor with them now, but he had his girls to show him the proper method of pup-rearing, as well as the woman who would help him make them.

Until then, the assassin would simply live life appreciatively while he could. As Phex darted forward, he allowed her the reins on this trek; she was heading the right way, after all. As long as she stayed within his sights, it hadn’t mattered much to the Phantom how far she went, nor what she did. Until it did.
Which apparently was today.

The Guardian watched with smiling glacials as she was running forward with her usual careless bounds, and his gait remained even and calm until the fae threw herself into a play bow before another lupine, or something like it. Frigid irises immediately narrowed as his mind went to work deciphering the situation at hand. Whoever this was was either distressed or ill, as a sneeze had shot forth from a slender snout moments before she had gotten there. Last thing he wanted was his ward getting sick, as he would only blame himself, and probably end up killing the wolf responsible. Kai had enough on her hands both with Arrowbella and herself needing to get better. He and Phex had no right to heavy that burden.

Switching smoothly from a slow walk to a gentle lope, athletic limbs caught up just as she dashed back to him - she must have heard him coming. Or atleast felt his worry. Bringing himself between his packmate and the sick youth before him, Cry determined the fate of this circumstance. The-
a sniff in the direction of the company and swift peek between sat privacy confirmed Male, had done nothing malicious other than the response the invitation was met with. Not everyone wanted to play; Phex would learn one day. He wouldn’t shield his girls from worldly lessons should they arise; he could only comfort them when they got hurt, and secretly murder who brought that hurt upon them. 

“I’m sorry,” Cry began with the rather curvaceous spindle of coy before him. “She’s a bit energetic, of this minute.” A gently swished banner offered the apology through both reassurance and body language as the Phantom tried to figure out who this pitiful canid was. “Are you okay?” Obviously not, but more often than not such a prompt would entice the boy some sort of conversation betwixt the pair. Or atleast he hoped.