words: 347
I've got soul but I'm not a soldier
Time was flying by, it seemed... Already bright flowers were in full bloom, the forest's trees were rich with verdant leaves, and the air was filled with the sounds of chattering squirrels, croaking frogs, and singing birds. In another moon's time, it would be summer. It was warm enough now - something about the vivid sun promised a hot season this year. Slay was fond of springtime, as it was the perfect climate for his thick coat of heavy fur. He disliked the winter because it reminded him of the home he'd run away from, the icy wasteland of a mountain. Spring was perfect, not too hot, not too snowy. And spring marked when he had arrived in this land last year...
Slay nosed the swinging door open, padding down the church steps to land on the fresh grassy carpet outside. He inhaled the aromas deeply, a smile wreathing his muzzle as he ambled towards the orchard for a walk. Cercelee was out hunting, presumably; they had not seen each other for a little while again, but the pups had been keeping him occupied. First Roulette by the seashore, then Avarice getting into mischief the other day... The mismatched puppies, with their quilt of various fur and eye colours, were really growing on him. He only wished he could say the same of them; with their almost unanimous denial of English, it felt as though they were rejecting him as their father-figure. He would have to keep trying.
The vineyard was scenic with its twining grape stalks and pungent flowers. Slay yawned drowsily, lulled to sleepiness by the droning of honeybees. His white-tipped ears perked up at the sound of a squeaky young voice nearby, though, and a smile quirked onto his black lips as he realized it was one of the de Sadira brood. Peering around the wizened trunk of a stunted apple tree, he saw the snowy-white fur of Anka's daughter Catalyst. "Hello there, Cat," he drawled, pale eyes friendly. "Find something tasty out here? It'll be a long time before there are any grapes..."
