filet knife ❆ fishing

[lycaon v.]

once more, lycaon was out exploring the isles he donned his home; he often was, admittedly avoiding his duties, but in truth he hated them. the job had been selected for him by his late mother, and was not something that sang to his soul, as his late father used to speak of his own job.

this time, he was meandering across the beaches, coated in snow and ice, when splashes caught his attention. his path diverted without a thought to danger; his mind never did jump to that, even in the state the coalition was in currently.

he didn't know this animal, but lyc was starting to realise he didn't know anyone, really, and with a newfound determination to change that, the pale lion wandered over to his side. he was large, and clumsy, and didn't watch where he plopped his bottom when he sat, so hopefully he wasn't sat on anything important.

"what'cha doing?" he questioned, eyeing Everett's actions with keen interest.