Swiftcurrent Creek Rolling through the garden

A non-committal grunt was offered at the comment of getting older—it was hard to explain to another how he felt both ancient like a rusted artifact, and yet too immature to hold the responsibilities he did.

Instead, he continued to pluck away the dead parts of plants—Arlette instructing the weeds be given no mercy. Fine by him—as annoying as it was to be tending to a garden his ex had planted, he knew this would not just benefit the pack, but he didn’t want Arlette doing the labor of it—plus, it also felt a bit like giving Eshe the middle finger while doing so.

The plants would thrive without her. The pack would thrive without her. He would thrive without her.

Well. At the very least, he would survive without her.

He chuckled as Arlette noted that Arric was likely to be even more smitten with some tiny beings in the near future. “If he doesn't, he’s doing it wrong,” he agreed.

When the garden was done, he ushered Arlette off to rest—with a drink and a meal—placing a sloppy kiss to her forehead primarily for good show to his best friend before he would seek his own solace for the night.