Swiftcurrent Creek Is there a line that we could just go cross?

A beat of something deep within his chest caught him off guard when Akavir stated that he did, indeed, think him the type to put down roots. Viinturuth considered it quietly, this nameless feeling at the heart of him - was it acceptance? Perhaps his brother was right. With years of stubbornness and reminder of his own parents' undoing, he'd failed to ground himself somewhere. Age was creeping up on him, though, and it was a sore realisation that he was not getting any younger.

He said no more on the matter, and was glad to let it go when his brother carried on with far juicier discussion of his own romantic involvement. Viinturuth's intrigue piqued; not only one but three she-wolves seemed to vye for the blackbird's attention, and he emitted a bark of amusement. Come, he beckoned to his raven littermate, aiming to deliver a sharp nip to his shoulder as he passed him by, tell me how it is that you get all this attention. I'm willing to bet they turn their eyes to me now that I'm here!