The group grew quickly by leaps and bounds as the young of Spirane, and other packs too it seemed, answered the starkly marked woman’s call. Bastille’s icy blues eyes widened as she watched them all bounce in, their different coats and scents causing her head to spin. It seemed like only yesterday she and her sister had expanded their world to include the sea pack of Glorall and the three brothers, but the immensity of the world still amazed her on occasions like these. Jax, on the other hand, was quite content with his world being those he considered his family. The center of that world were his siblings and parents, beyond that he extended his pack-family a semblance of that same courtesy unless they proved unworthy of that trust and protection. Family didn’t mean blood, and blood didn’t mean family.

He watched with mild disinterest as a few other girls joined the group, his aquamarine eyes alighting on each of their slight frames. At the sound of a quiet growl from the dark boy laying in the grasses his nerves spike, the hair on the back of his neck standing up slightly as his gaze flies around the area searching for whatever possibly danger had alarmed him. His dark nose twitches as he catches the foreign scent that had no doubt alarmed Drogon. He huffed, slender tail twitching in agitation as he tried to settle back down. This was an open gathering after all and visitors imposed no danger at the present time, though he was still on high alert as always.

Bastille, on the other hand, remained oblivious to the entire situation focusing instead on the three other girls she hadn’t met. Her fluffy tail wagged excitedly in the grass as she yipped a greeting. “Do you think we should go say hi?” she mutters to Em while still totally focused on not acknowledging that she had seen Rhaegal when she arrived. Of course that strategy blew to pieces as she felt his approach only moments before his wet nose pressed in to her cheek. She gasped quietly to herself in surprise, her icy eyes flicking to his stark, two-toned depths as a smile broke over her face. “’Course you can,” she whispered as the others quieted, even as Jax let out a low growl of warning to remind her that he was watching and wasn’t fond of this boy sitting so close by her side and touching. Bast flicked her tail at him.

Both their gazes turned to the storyteller as she began to speak. Bastilles eyes grew wide as the story took shape, a wolf so deeply in love that he would do anything for the she-wolf that had stolen his heart. She sighed happily, her mind wandering to the idea that someone might do the same for her one day even as she inadvertently leaned toward Rhaegal. Her brother was more focused on the path the hero had to take over to succeed, sticking his tongue out at the fact that he did it for some girl. Family, sure, but not love. Either way both of their attentions are ensnared at the she-wolf’s words. They follow along his journey as it unfolds, Bastille’s breath catching as he confronts his first task and breathing a sigh of relief as he succeds.

She whimpers to herself as the story pauses, Sorcha’s question hanging in the air above their small heads until the blonde prince answers. He is so like Embla in his inquisitive and attentive manner. “Yea, the cougar!” she chimes in with her high voice, the eagerness to hear the rest of the story quite apparent even as her brother rolls his eyes feigning nonchalance.