Father and daughter

Nothing like telling a young wolf you thought their friendship was a crush to annoy them. He hid his fond smile, knowing it would only agitate her more. He flicked his tail gently against her, a silent motion of support. She might not have been ready to hear the words yet, but he hoped she knew he could come to her when she needed to talk. With his children, he wanted to be approachable.

They where both happy to change the subject. He didnt know how much her parents had taught her before she had fled, but he hoped she understood how babies where made and how to be safe. It was not a topic either would enjoy, but he would bumbled through it if she needed.

But... ghosts. Ghosts, not babies, was the topic. thank goodness.
"I couldnt tell you with any certain if they are real or not. I chose to believe in what I can see, feel, touch." And besides, if he believed in ghosts, he would be haunted with many from his past. He was once the killer on the behest of the old Ashen Empire. He had killed for them, and to protect them. He had killed many when the empire had crumbled and wolves had sought the blood of the royals. He had killed to keep Deathbelle from rape and death. He had much blood on his hands. He glanced back to the ocean, thinking of the world he had left so far beyond it. Old wounds cracking at the edges, before he whole them away, hiding them with a smile. "I don't believe in them, but I'm curious to see what Mortis believes when his experiments are done."