Swiftcurrent Creek playing with a stick of dynamite

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Piss off.

He laughed—he couldn’t help it. Full belly, muzzle thrown back—it was perhaps one of the more relaxed moments he had in months, and it took a moment to compose himself from Arric and the ridiculous situation he had found himself in.

“Maybe look closer to home, yeah?” The sea, after all, was a travel in and of itself. Akavir wasn’t necessarily keen on his friend traversing the northern lands alone to visit a she-wolf. “You sure you didn’t find yourself a siren? My grandfather would have something to say about that.”

Akavir had always been skeptical himself—but there was certainly a draw of the Mayfair’s to the more mythical side.

Regarding his daughter, he considered, knowing he could divulge his concerns to Arric—but uncertain how he felt about any of it. “I’m not sure. She’s looking for her sister… but she told me she’s part of an arranged marriage, and I need to figure out what our old pack was thinking setting that up…” He brooded. “A fucking arranged marriage? I'm tempted to say heads are going to fucking roll.”