Little Goat Mountain the red string of fate tugs at my heart

He doesn’t act like her reply surprises him at all. All he does is nod knowingly. “They’re one and the same, no?” He asks with a smile. “Shit happens though. Just gotta move on. Or try to anyway.” The advice, if one can even call it that, is probably not helpful at all, yet he can’t seem to be bothered by it. He’s thriving once more in this new life of his.

He shifts his weight uncomfortably and lowers himself into a seat position. A quick grimace takes over his expression as he hovers his left paw off the ground in an attempt to relieve some pressure on his wound. His casual, yet playful smile of quick to return as he sets his eyes on her.

“I’m Donovan Azura of the Abbey. Alpha of the Saints of the Dying Light, my pack. What’s your name, dear?” Comes his honeyed reply. He’s a helpless womanizer and he just can’t help it.