Nero’s favorite put in the entire world was his front yard. He sat there in the wooden swing or the wicker shaking chair each morning with a container of coffee, looking out at the woods that were his.
The woodland was his to secure and protect, and each part of the Greenlee pack was too his obligation. He took that part seriously.
In the final month, that part had been tried by the entry of a vampire committee in the following town over, and Nero and his wolves had made a difference another pack secure what was theirs. It made him pleased, which, in turn, made his morning consideration on the front patio that much sweeter.
The quiet was happy. In spite of the fact that there wasn’t really any quiet. The woodland was as well active to really be quiet.
Birds chirped, and small critters
