feel free to slap me with a wet fish for keeping you all so long ;;
Despite her old age and new found maturity, Skye found herself blushing when Valinta said that she was mated to Bangle now. Sky let out a squeak of surprise and turned to the creamy-white woman, asking if it was true, and how could she mate to that crazy old trader, and what on earth was she thinking! Skye wasn't so sure what she had been thinking, actually, but she was glad she had been thinking it. Her pups and mate were wonderful, and she wouldn't trade them for the world.
"Yes, that crazy old trader," she said, grinning from ear to ear. "He's even crazier at night, if you know what I'm saying," she said slyly with a wink. "We have three, and there's more where that came from." She then opened her maw into a loud laugh, one that she hadn't experienced in a while. It was good to be back with her old friends, she decided. It was very good to be back, back where she felt like she was just a year old again, and still with her friends of the times of the founding of Cercatori d'Arte. Now things were older, wiser, and seen through a lens smeared with the grayish green of nostalgia and a wisp of old age. She had felt old, but now? Now she felt like she was a puppy all over again, setting out for the first time into Souls.
Sky was worried, though, and Skye put a hand on her shoulder. "Relax, Sky," she said gently. "Orin's not that bad. In fact, she'd been a great asset to the pack, making these performances that are the bomb around the packs. Makes us have a good rep, you know?" But Skye knew that Sky was not worried about the pack - she was worried about her old love, Shawchert Menue. The one man that Skye had seen her fall in love with and cry over and get over. And then leave. Skye knew that was what she had been talking about, and the way her eyes looked at the girl told her everything; it was fine, Shawchert was fine.
"Speak of the devil," she said as she saw the tall man near them. He hadn't changed much - he was a grand total of eight years now, eight old and gray years. Quite a bit older than Skye, although Skye would never tell it to his face. Skye, who had once slapped the alpha right across the muzzle, had grown to respect him. Oh, she had respected him before, she had certainly - how could she not? But she had quit her alpha-slapping days. And Bangle-slapping. Mostly.
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