The Heartwood what a brilliant speech you gave

lucifer chuckled lowly, the sound rolling off his tongue like velvet. he glanced back at cathal, the boy’s boundless energy almost infectious in its sincerity. ah, sì, you can track, he said, his tone laced with a mix of amusement and approval. that sparkle in your eyes—it’s something rare out here, ragazzo. don’t let it fade.

the boy’s question caught him off guard, and for a moment, lucifer’s gaze softened, though his smirk never wavered. am I a tracker? he repeated, his voice quieter now, almost contemplative. once, long ago. when I was an alpha, i was many things—tracker, hunter, leader. my pack depended on me for it all.

his golden eyes shifted to the horizon, the faintest trace of something darker flickering across his expression. but those days are behind me now. packs, responsibility... they weigh you down after a while. the wilds are simpler. cleaner. 

lucifer turned his attention to the snow, testing the air for scents, his voice turning light again. come, ragazzo. show me your skills. if you’re as good as you claim, perhaps we’ll find him yet.::