The Sentinels beauty means the scent of roses, and then the death of roses

As much as he didn’t want to admit, there was much on his mind. His time resting had been a time in which he dwelled in the past and wondered why he had to be stolen. Why couldn’t it have been some other puppy? Had Lucy found refuge elsewhere? What was his family doing? And, regrettably, he wondered if his family had ceased their search for him. All of this weighed heavily on his shoulder, dragging him down into the darkness that threatened to consume him.

He sighed, conflicted in what he would offer his healer.

“I don’t know what to think of Skellige and his people,” he admitted, casting his gaze towards the ground. “They’re not like the wolves from Neverwinter,” the mention of his former pack caused a pang in his heart and he frowned.