Swiftcurrent Creek violet curse

-barges in-

He missed the storm cloud that was Arric—eyes catching only the large figure stalking away as he came up upon the other side of the border. Arlette was in discussion once more with Lestan and Shardik—the former appearing nervous, while the latter seemed angry.

The tension coiled among them once more—this time, Akavir strode forward, pale eyes drifting between either men, his tail giving a flick in the air, much like a predator cat, biding its time.

He could hear the trail end of Lestan’s words—‘do you need me to stay?’

Hadn’t his cousin made it clear he had wanted nothing to do with the creek, prior? The Mayfair canted his muzzle, feeling the colder air of autumn preen at him. “Can someone fill me in? I was under the impression Suzu had wished to speak with Shardik—so why is there another argument on our borders?”

His tone was quiet than usual—gaze flicking between both men before settling to Arlette—his usual voice of reason.