[aw] and it goes like this

Levent Kartal · 10-12-2012, 04:19 PM

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Unexpectedly, the hybrid offered him a place in his pack. Cream brows lifted in a quizzical fashion, but Levent only smiled wryly and shook his head. “No, I’m done with packs, for now.” He especially didn’t want to join one so soon after the last; he needed to be alone, to grieve, to feel goddamn sorry for himself. Packs meant forged bonds, allies, comrades—and an ache when you had to leave them. It was simpler on the trade routes when all he had to do was say a cheery farewell to another merchant or innkeep or acquaintance or one-time beau. No, he doubted he’d heal enough to risk pain like that again.

Wilson only narrowed his eyes at the coywolf’s awkward pleasantries, and Levent was amused to see him playing dumb again, as if he couldn’t speak the same (albeit accented) English as the rest of them. He knew it made the cat comfortable, though, and it was always best to hide one’s true talents among those one didn’t trust. In the cat’s case, he didn’t really trust anyone.

Trent looked adorably excited when he realized the stuff lying around wasn’t off-limits to random strangers. The brown-furred wolf leaned back to observe him as he caught the jeans and ran his fingers over the denim. His remark had the Turk laughing, but Lev didn’t comment until Trent had looked at the jeans at a sufficient number of angles to look helplessly lost with them.

“Those,” Levent said, standing, “go on your legs.” He grinned wolfishly. “I can help you get into them, if you want,” he added demurely.

#00+

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