Ravensblood Forest only a fool would make martyrs from heathens

Donovan laughs. “Nonsense. You’re a good fighter. A fair spar partner.” He chirps deeply. As they walk further into the forest in the direction Donovan knew there was water. 

He listens intently to the other speak, flicking Holden’s orbs over to them every so often. He gives an interested hum at their first sentence and he turns to look at the mountains as well. Though when Renard gives a breathy chuckle and speaks of being sidetracked he can’t help but wonder. Will Renard join them? Or perhaps Donovan could sway this interesting wolf to lean towards the path of the Saints. Having another so much like himself would put him at ease and he seems to be hitting it off quite nicely with the other. So what would be the shame in trying? The worst he can get is a no, to which he would nod politely back to them an accept it. Denial is nothing new to the wolf dog. Yet he cannot help but think about the pros Renard would bring to his pack. 

With only a slight hesitance he chuckles back. “Well. I’m glad to have distracted you, Renard. I was thinking you’d be an asset to me. Would like to consider you a valued member of my pack.”

Then he gives them a way out. “Of course, I wouldn’t take offense to your denial. We would remain on good terms.”