The Weight of Frost
They turned away from the loud, chaotic table and walked off down the illuminated dirt path together, arm in arm, mirroring the exact same comforting way Zyan and Emerald had walked just moments before.
They walked together in comfortable silence until the loud, boisterous roaring of the Silver Paw table faded into a soft, distant hum. Once Nesha was absolutely certain they were well out of earshot of her sons' overprotective werewolf hearing, she gently pulled Emerald to a stop along the quiet, moonlit path.
Nesha turned to face her niece, folding her arms over her chest with a warm, expectant look. "Okay, out with it."
Emerald took a deep breath, her fingers twisting nervously into the hem
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