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Had he been a smarter wolf, clever, he might have become irritated by the silence that the young coyote. Yet his own son rarely spoke unless needed, and so Larkspur was used to such a thing. His eyes followed the Kimaris boy as he went to display the proposed design. It seemed like a simple enough idea, and one that would certainly make sure that the sheep did not flee during the night when unsupervised. Pleased, Larkspur nodded at the suggestion.
“That is good,” he said aloud. “D’you need leather? My slave, she can help y’too.” Though useless in most aspects, Rowan was talented when it came to the working of fabric and the like. She was smart enough to learn; he had been pleased to see she picked up on her role within Salsola. Though a slave, and therefore no better than property, Larkspur treated her well enough that she never showed any sort of resentment towards her role. Especially once she had seen the way the pack had dealt with the trader coming for her—she had been nothing less than ecstatic.
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