[/html]The small male was certainly of the Court, the scent distinct as his brother Alder’s. The pack of artists must be holding open house to many that came to them with the wish to look around. His notion of the idea was changing as he looked at the blond hued boy, perhaps it would be good to let the other pack come and see Crimson Dream’s for themselves. The visitors would be given a pass but would leave with a proper sense of who they were.
He returned with a sort of apology, and Oak did not expect much more then that. He looked like he was at the age in which judgment was forming and he would have much more to say about Oak’s blatant remark. But did not seem to hold an attitude towards the Dreaming male, seeking out his scent and piping up about his brother.
Oak nodded, smiling gently. I am. My name is Oak. Alder is my brother, is he being good in Cour des Miracles? He questioned with a forced frown. He tended to ask about his kin in such a fashion, knowing well that Alder was certainly behaving himself. Perhaps he would someday get a shocking reply.
What’s your name?
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