Rosewater Oasis papa was a rolling stone

a wolf of brilliant color from nape to tail-tip approached, burning bright even among the relatively lush oasis. even his eyes—a vibrant blue—stood out. surya regarded this apparition with interest, which quickly waned once the other spoke.

kya sochte hain? he muttered, only the corner of his mouth lifting in sardonic response. he'd hoped the yearling for an angel, come to rescue him from this hell on earth.

then again, he could be. and surya had better remember his manners, if so.

i'm fine, surya amended, still gruff but not outwardly hostile. he lifted his head from the water and gave the fiery young man a cool, appraising stare. who asks?