Swiftcurrent Creek Can't forget your style or your cynicism

A shiver coursed through her—enough for the man to stir to action and he beckoned her, eyes drifting from the sleeping pup at her paws back up to her features. He spoke nothing—but when he lead them to one of the only abandoned dens he knew of, he trailed carefully in front of her—as if his larger form could block some of the rain from her and Foxglove.

Lingering outside the den entrance, his gaze remained stoical—he hadn’t been here since Eshe had left him, and he didn’t even know what remnants of his ex-wife remained within. Still, he sidestepped, allowing Reverie to gather her girl and get her from the cold.

With a short howl—he beckoned Mae to come if she wished—knowing if his own daughter knew Reverie was within their home and she hadn’t seen her, he would certainly hear about it.