Paving A Road With Good Intentions

"And what of the years you have with me? I'm not getting any younger, you know" the Old Warlord said softly, resting a paw over Andy's. Zee had made him all too aware of his mortality. This youngest litter would be his last, and he was loath to let them go. He knew they would grow into adults in another year, and likely many of them would already be out into the world. But they had just reached the age of a yearling, they were still young. Young enough to hold in his arms at night, and kiss their scraped knees. 


Soon, very, very soon. They would be too old for that. And Andy... Andy reminded him of Zee the most. No, he wasn't ready to squander her youth. Selfish old bastard that he was. "Half a season, or not at all, Andy. It's my final word on it." He said, his voice growing sterner still.