the golden rule

He looked across at Asla, the disappointment in his face had been replaced with a pride so strong it could almost be fanatical. “Your the best, little Star-Flower” he whispered, and meant it. A father should definitely not pick favourites. A father can not have favourites… he had a feeling he would be repeating that mantra to himself a lot for the rest of his life.

“Good idea” he said, still whispering over the sleeping body of his boy. His strong little Heir. not that Azure knew it yet. He picked the boy up very carefully in his maw by his scruff, working hard not to jostle him. With his mouth full of pup, he could hardly speak, but he looked over at his daughter every now and then, and his eyes seemed to grin at her.