Emberwood branch-waving

It means comrade. Ally. Friend, if you allow it.

But the unacquainted term was no longer necessary. Not when those dulcet syllables were presented; the lovely notes of his name made even sweeter by the soft hiccup of a stutter. Lestan Mayfair, then, he hummed, sampling the feel of it on his tongue. I am Winter’s Wake.

I should like to see you again.

Wake’s brows lifted ever so slightly. The feeling is mutual. He regarded the shy man, who had wrung out the nerve to request a return of his presence, with tempered fascination.

And so you will. A declaration and a promise. Future visions of the summerwolf swam behind his eyes. The rogue would not relinquish such a pliant associate so easily. Safe travels, Mayfair. Expect to see me before the moon turns full.

Tail waved a goodbye as the winterwolf turned to lope back the way he had come.