Ywain

"Again, thanks for your help, aunt."

"Think nothing of it." With a sigh, Calafia sets down a heavy crate and wipes her claws. "You'd do the same for me if I ever had to relocate my vineyard."

Ywain chuckles. "I can't picture you tending to a vineyard, though. Still, I appreciate it. Greatly so."

"How true. Plants are so very boring. To me, anyways", she adds quickly, grabbing another crate, "but if that's what you want to protect, go for it."

He looks at the remains of his former vineyard, which they're in the process of moving to a safer place. One that isn't so close to the border, where the beastclans could bring havoc any second. He looks at his clanmates, all busy and cheerful around him, and feels the need to correct, "Well, I have dragons I want to protect, too. They're just not the squeaky and unruly kind."

Calafia huffs in false indignation. "Excuse you? You sound like all my children are menaces. I get why you prefer plants to them, though; If you can't even appreciate their enthusiasm, you're better off if nothing ever talks to you."

"You win!", Ywain laughs. He exchanges a quick nod with one of his clanmates. "Well, as much as I hate it, looks like we're done here. Let's hop on and pray that no beastclans get ideas."

She grins, widely. "Oh, you softie. I'll let you in on a secret: When raising kids, it sometimes pays off if you can look scary when you need to."