Morningside Cuesta morning glory

Lestan's face did not go unnoticed, but Frederick found himself confused by the man's horror. To hunt was a celebration, he knew that much. The newest leader should be named out of honour. And the weakest—would that not be mercy? But he blinked, then, and did not think, nor speak more on the topic.

He only blinked at Lestan's weak chuckle, though his brows pulled together, another indicator of confusion. But then he asked how many hunters Frederick would need, and he thought on it for a moment. A deer, maybe two, if they were lucky. Two, maybe three should be fine. Including me, that is.

Will you be joining, Lestan? A careful tone, then. Something made it seem that he was not quite interested. So he wondered, then, who would be joining him on this hunt.