Qeya River down by the walls of wapping

a soft snort that was derisive and far from amused, leaves kivaluk as she speaks about disruption and how it can change a wolf. i feel like i know that better than i should. he isn't bitter about it ( at least, not yet, a tune that would change in a few days to come ) but kivaluk feels like all he's known is instability. which wasn't entirely fair to his parents: they were trying. situations — life — outside of their control occured and they did the best they could. he, older now and perhaps a bit wiser ( not entirely the child he once was ) can understand this.

process it better than he could as a small child.

i look forward to spring, then. he says, a soft smile tugging at his lips as she weaves the story of it to him. he pauses then, ears alert atop his skull to sniff at a stretch of the borders and the stench of fox lingering upon them. hm, he drawls; head lifting as his gaze moves back to amalia. foxes. he offers though likely she can smell them just as well as he can.