Friend.

What a cute word. He was so shy. So innocent.

Valeska, a pale smudge of white fluff beneath the looming shadow of her own progeny, chuckled.

Is she, now? she said casually, waving a paw to cover her face as another broad grin threatened to overtake her expression.

Oh, children. Such foolishness. She was far older - wiser - learned. She knew the signs. There was a word for it in the common tongue, but it was lost to her as she observed his steady descent into raw panic.

Alder had always been the most sensitive of their original litter, barring Dimitri and the darkness that seemed to follow in his footsteps. A victim of circumstance and coincidence, he had inherited the cursed red coat of his grandfather - and borne the weight of those sins regardless of his own actions. Amaranth had never accepted him as one of her own, and the boy had been forced to grow up in his own way, far from the scornful gaze of his golden mother and away from a reputation he could not control.

But now he had returned - if only temporarily - and he had a girl with him.

Valeska lifted a paw and patted at his shoulder.

Ты стал сильным, (You have grown strong) she said appreciatively in her native tongue. All of their pups had learned Russian to varying degrees; it was part of their heritage. Well, it is as you have seen. Quiet, apart from the sorrow that is Viscaria's end, and the загадочный ублюдок (mysterious fucker) that attacked your mother.

She scooted closer.

Tell me about Solvi.

She smiled.

Have you danced*?

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