Rhyson
“You look different,” Nash observed as we headed to Troy’s office. It was early in the morning, but the grounds were hardly quiet. The main roadway was busy with juveniles racing in packs around us and adults either scurrying after them or yelling at them to settle down. A few vehicles drove past us, ranging from jeeps to golf carts, and I couldn’t help but grin at the flurry of activity. It had been awhile since I spent much time totally immersed in a pack. I missed the hustle and bustle.
“Slept well,” I responded. “And I feel more relaxed now that we’re here.”
“Sure. I’m sure it had nothing to do with the screams of pleasure I heard while walking down the hallway,” he said cheerily, immediately hopping to his left when I turned my head to glare at him. “Look, I’m just saying th
