It was funny how much time changed things. Over the years, his mother had floated in and out of his life so many times.. and his siblings, many of them, were prone to disappearing too. Only a few wolves had been a constant, and Lillie was one of them. Maybe he'd initially gotten close to her because he worried the sort of influence she'd have on Finch -- maybe it was because she was one of thee few wolves to actually challenge him, to push him outside of his comfort zone, with how he thought and how he felt. He remembered he'd hated her once, had even imagined her walking off a cliff and hadn't been disgusted entirely with the thought.
He was well-aware now that he cared for her, though he hadn't quite wrestled with the details much. He'd always liked when things were black and white, when he knew exactly how to classify things and didn't have to think too much about it. Everything about Lillie, though, was somewhere in the middle, a murky shade of grey, and ignoring the confusion was the easiest route for him.
He only retracted slightly from her touch, having not expected it, but he wasn't oblivious to the warmth that suddenly spread through his body at the feeling of her teeth against his flesh. The closeness was definitely preferred, and he let his head roll slightly to the side; an open invitation to her, rather than rejecting her touch.
Her words made him snort though, the soft sound leaving his throat and echoing in the relative silence that surrounded them. It was a peaceful morning, and only the gentle bubbling of the stream and the nearby birdsong would break the peace. "Alright then, I'm not that sorry, " Lark admitted after a moment, amusement filling his eyes, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of thinking she was right. Meeting her halfway was a much better option. "You know what I am sorry for, though?" He rolled slightly onto his side to face her watching her with laughter dancing in his eyes. "That one time I told you to vaffanculo . That wasn't very nice of me, was it?"
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