don't ever gift pets

*Lucretia* · (This post was last modified: 08-14-2019, 07:51 PM by Lucretia.)

The old ways. She supposed, in a way, Ashen was Deathbelle's love letter to the Klein Empire. They were all yearning for their own old ways, whatever they may be. Bourbon had seemed to find his place in the world and was content with his lot. Wasn't she content with hers? And yet there was always a nervous energy about her, ever searching for something more. To be Shamyn was her greatest goal, wasn't it? The health of the pack weighed heavy on her heart and mind.

His earnest response to her question caught her off guard. Instead of confronting it, she chose to ignore it. The idea frightened her. It was an alarming amount of power that he was granting her over his mortal body. She was a healer, yes - a steward, maybe. Lucretia could not tell if he was asking her to protect him or swearing down his own life before her. Either way, she was wary.

After some time walking, they arrived at her den. The brisk exercise felt good in her sore limbs. She had spent almost as much time as Deathbelle curled up in the palace. Upon entering the den, the air seemed stale. It had been a while since she'd been in residence. "this, I suppose, will be your home," she said tentatively, wishing that the air wasn't stagnant and the ground a bit tidier. "feel free to choose your quarters, there are plenty of nooks and crannies. try to avoid anywhere that smells too strongly of raccoon," she cautioned with a smile. Feverfew was lurking about somewhere, Luce was sure of it.

"lucretia mutters..."

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