don't your feet get cold in the wintertime
#7
Cercatori D’ Arte...it must be fairly new then. New packs were always springing up and vanishing within a short time. He'd seen that himself as he'd been pulled from pack to pack growing up, and then again when he was an adult on his own. "A diverse pack is a good thing...different talents and all." He looked startled as Liam stood and approached the male, staring up at him. "We came from Cat-list. Is a pack...is we a pack? Me and daddy?"

Tal lowered his head and spoke to the pup that was sniffing at Shawchert's feet. "Liam, we are our own pack, you and me. Other pack wolves call us loners because there is no actual pack, it's just me, the grown up, and you, the pup." Liam looked at his dad, then up at Shawchert. "How we get to be pack? And what art? Is that like daddy reading stories? He used to do that when we were in Cat-list, before Azzy hurted daddy." He cocked his head as he stood on his hind feet, trying to stand tall like the male. He ended up bracing his paws on the male's legs for support.

Tal was mortified at his son's behavior and moved forward, grabbing the pup's tail and pulling him back. "Liam, behave. Shawchert is a leader...whether we are in his pack or not, we show respect to leaders. Especially after he was kind enough to share food with us."

Liam looked puzzled, not quite understanding the idea his dad was trying to get through to him.


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