They laugh, and it's a low-toned laugh, their ears perking forward. The boy's wings were half-green, but Lefty delighted in seeing them anyway. Armada seemed to be a place full of wolves with interesting changes: Kyanite's eyes, Sirius' teeth, Basilisk's...
everything, and now Wylan and his wings! Her tail wagged, and Lefty chuckled before flashing him a pleasant enough smile.
"Well, Wylan! You're in luck. You see-- my important adult business is helping others." Their muzzle gestured towards the sword. "I'm meant to help." It isn't the precise truth, but honestly, Wylan doesn't seem the type to be bothered by that, what with his outgoing demeanor and all. "I'm a fighter, a teacher, whatever the pack needs of me. So, yes-- you can have that sword, and when you're a bit older, we can make you a proper blade." It's a promise that Lefty feels entirely confident making: they will be here, in Armada, until the end of days. They know that much.
"Speech"
