That, at last, pulls a less reflexive smile to his lips. One finger lifts, without brushing the stone, to trace along the line of the ribbon being left to the fairies.
"It wouldn't be cats." His aunt calls him her little wolf cub, but Mordred had inherited his mother's soft spot for feline companions. "They're too clever to take what's been left for their better friends."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2015-07-21 05:24 pm (UTC)"It wouldn't be cats." His aunt calls him her little wolf cub, but Mordred had inherited his mother's soft spot for feline companions. "They're too clever to take what's been left for their better friends."