The Heartwood what a brilliant speech you gave

lucifer’s golden eyes narrowed as he watched the boy's fear melt away into reckless cheer, his tail wagging like a wind-tossed banner. the grin on cathal’s face was almost enough to draw a huff of amusement from lucifer—almost. instead, his expression remained unreadable, save for the faint arch of a brow.  

iseldur, you say? his voice was smooth but edged with something sharp, like the crackle of distant flames. he glanced in the direction the boy gestured, his ears flicking back briefly before returning to cathal. you speak as though i'm here to be your guide. tell me, piccolo lupo, why should i care where your iseldur is?

the boy’s grin faltered for only a moment, but it was enough to amuse lucifer. his smirk returned, this time laced with something darker. you’re too trusting, he continued, circling the boy with slow, measured steps. wolves like me are not the kindly saviors you seem to imagine. i'm not here to rescue you from your loneliness—or your naïveté.

lucifer paused, his sharp gaze locking onto cathal once more. but perhaps… i will help you, he said, his tone softening just enough to make the boy’s tail wag again. not because you deserve it, but because this forest is no place for a pup so easily mistaken for prey. consider it a kindness, ragazzo—a rare gift.