Swiftcurrent Creek I got my fists on the kitchen table

Akavir shrugged at her jest. “Challenge him, then,” he offered, though there wasn’t much conviction to his words. He liked Arric and trusted the male—obviously. “But he’s built like a tank, so it’s kind of like running into a stone wall.”

When she moved to discuss the task ahead of her, the Mayfair gave a small nod, his light mood sobering slightly as he studied her. “It’s good to see you, Eislyn.” The prospect of running with one of his siblings once more as a pack mate was a comforting thought. To return back to a certain simplicity in life… Isn’t that what the creek had meant to be?