40 tablespoons of sugar
#7
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Although shifting was a natural thing, Honoré couldn’t stop himself from staring in awe as the grey male’s body started to change. He’d never had the opportunity to witness such a phenomenon; it was both scary and fascinating at the same time. After all, the Québécois had never taken the time to shift in front of a mirror. How was he supposed to know what it looked like? His eyes were wide open; two hazel-colored beads fixated upon the visitor. Lubomir was in obvious pain for a few moments, and the Loas unknowingly allowed a pained grimace to settle on his face.

Once the process was all over, the Dahlian wolf granted him a smile. Honoré mirrored it uncertainly, still a little shaken up by what he’d seen. His shock was quickly replaced by excitement when Lubomir gave the taffy a try. He was leaning forward in anticipation, both of his ears perked upwards. It took the other male a few seconds to savor the sticky substance at most, but those seconds seemed like an eternity to the French man. Then it came; the long awaited verdict. He liked it! Honoré had never felt so proud in his life. “S’good, eh?! Been making it long long time. Have some more stuff too, not only tire d’érable!” He could always make him pancakes with maple syrup, too!
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