Moonspear No sleep 'til Brooklyn

There was a small rumble that emanated from Glaukos' chest when he heard that nickname, Smalls, again. It felt derogatory. It was wrong, because he was not small, and the joke of it did not register for him. He was annoyed by the banter and cared little for the company of this man — who he swiftly remembered in greater detail the longer they were together and conversing.

The question posed by the dark wolf was mundane for how obvious it was. Glaukos huffed and looked to his surroundings as if there were something he sought in the shadows of the trees, and his gaze narrowed with piqued annoyance.

Sialuk. He answered, dully. Even so, his voice was softer than before; but he was quick to put up the emotional and social barricades, and coldly — a touch smug, to be truthful — added, I am to be a father.