Swiftcurrent Creek Nile

Oh—she was certainly not one to be forgotten, and his jaw became a little more slack as she carried on with introductions. Not just a mouthful of a last name—Sandraudiga, interesting—but an onset of rather smarmy names given to four bundles of absolute indignation as they argued what their actual names.

Consequence. Ramification. Repercussion. Fallout.

The last one was certainly the heaviest. And potentially the most likely to become true.

“What compelling names,” he remarked wryly, gaze shifting over them once more. They could be…

They might not be, though? Were they…?

“I see you’re missing Guillotine.”

Before he could make much more than that—Burdock—perhaps one of their most mischievous this year—came jauntily up, and the Mayfair partially expected a demand of introductions so he can begin to play with the guests who had perhaps shattered Akavir’s current relative life.

'Are these going to be our slaves?' Wait…What? 'Can I have the one with eyes like toad's?'

He certainly hadn’t expected any of that out of his little mouth—and his jaw slackened even more, though a curl of amusement pressed at his lips as he rounded his gaze back to the four pups. “Ladies and Gentlemen,” he offered with a sweep of a paw. “May I introduce you to the welcome wagon.”

What the hell was even happening here…