cometh,

"Dearest @Callanwolde, come with I! I must borrow you from the rest of them, for a demanding of gathering of flowers. Surely the need of decoration and splendor of jewelry is needed, for only the most refined wolves." Manon would approach the large guard, dark in form, the lowest of blood but given as a prize to the highest bidders ; the king and queen. Yet to run away and never did, and was also the first to greet here within this new Highvalley land.

'Chop chop' so Manon would demand of this lad, to be brought over to the meadows to help within this dill-dally of an amusement. Maybe there was slight thought to decorate this man with some as well, just to lighten up his more dreaded gaze.

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 His mouth curled, twitched, forming a 'no' of its own accord. 

 Manon had all the energy of a manic fairy, puckish and flitting and as shallow as a tide pool. 

 But of the requests that could be asked of him, it was harmful only to his reputation. So the bull followed the highblood, stalking after her, his hulk swaying in the sun. 

 “Show me what to pick.”

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Oh how she smiled mischievously, knowing well he could never say no. Such a man knew of his place, enticing any to simply command as they saw fit — but he was a favorite servant of the High King, not touched so easily that she could take him so much, or do. But for the moment in his time alone, she managed to bring a small ploy, to gain the bull to pluck her beloved bouquet for the Highbloods.

"Only the whitest flowers, to cut at the roots! They must be intact. Only the freshiest and most intact flowers for my family," she said, lecturing lightly to be the upmost gentle, as she led him to the flower fields.

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 Callanwolde set to the task, putting his head down and snatching the delicate white blooms from the ground, dirt collecting in his mouth. 

 He pillaged the soil, ridding the meadow of only the purest ivory blooms, bitterly wondering if any more would grow after such decimation. 

 When he was finished he walked over to Manon and dropped the bushel of flowers at her feet. “Here.”

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Ugh, what a man! Although was a bit rough on the edges, and on occasion she could hear the low-blood swoon for him.. He did his job. He stayed with the Highbloods, and though no one could say why, many valued the loyalty this man. Wouldn't it be nice if most lowbloods acted like he did? "Thank you!" she thanked him, as if it was a blessing from the Sun Goddess herself.

"In return, I offer you this one flower," and a single red one would she offer. It was dark, quite dark ; almost black, but doesn't it look like his pelt?

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