He sighs and closes his eyes, leaning his head against the back of the chair. “Very well, then,” he says with a groan, “where are we going?”
I hold my breath for a second, unsure of how he will react to what I’m about to say. After all, he’s been living in isolation for a long time, before mixing between races was a common thing.
“The werewolf castle,” I tell him, biting my lip nervously.
He chews on the end of his pipe thoughtfully for a moment, opening his eyes and studying me. “You’re an angel,” he muses.
I nod, “Mostly,” I answer.
“But you’re related to my family somehow?” He asks. I nod again. “And you live with the wolves, but you’re friends with a fairy-witch hybrid?”
“That about sums it up,” I say with a shrug.
“Sounds like quite the party,” he says, stroking his crumb-fille
