Porcupine Ridge sweet nothings,

Lorcan approached with his characteristic swagger, a predator’s grace in each step as his shadow stretched long over the silent, stocky pup. For a moment, he simply studied him, his intense amber eyes flicking over the boy’s stark silver coat and those vivid, sorrow-laden green eyes that seemed far too old for his age.

Well, well, Lorcan began, his smooth voice weaving through the still air. Here I thought I’d find a young hellion tearing up the scenery, not a little philosopher drowning in melancholy.His tone was light, teasing, but there was a flicker of something deeper beneath it—a recognition of the weight that burdened the boy.

He settled himself beside him, but not too close, leaning forward just slightly as if to share a secret. Name’s Lorcan. Been lookin’ for you, y’know. The new pup in our ridge. He smirked, a fleeting curve of his lips that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

He tilted his head, his dark coat catching the dim light as he regarded the pup. So, how about it, then? You tell me what’s got your tail in a twist, and maybe I’ll share how I became the charming rogue you see before you. Fair trade?