Mated to the Night Wolf
The sprite spins around partly flustered at the sudden hum of my voice, ears pointing upward, as I peer down at it with half-sleepy, half-frustrated eyes.
I study the creature. There is a morsel of cake in his right hand, his face is half covered in frosting, cheeks puffed, filled with it. It is a wonder why he has more as if anything else can fit.
He blinks half confused, with his large red watery eyes, and then forces it all down his throat in a deep swallow, before speaking.
"H-Hello," he squeaks, head tipping all the way upwards just to look up at me, nose a bright red from all the crying he had been doing.