Noctis lifted his head from its resting place to look behind them as his father carried him to his chambers in the royal quarters. Spying the two werewolves as his father had. The sight of Clarus' glowing eyes made his own midnight blue widen in terror before they step more into the light, revealing who the shape really was.
The small boy heaves a sigh of relief, smiling faintly at the younger wolf. Though when he sees that limp, he tugs on his dad's shirt. "Dad... he's hurt."
Regis paused slightly, looking to his lifelong friend's son and too noticing the limp. Humming to himself as he thought, he nodded. "Then your first task in the morning will be to tend to him once he has transformed. After,, you are grounded for a week."
He opened the door to his son's chambers one-handed with practiced ease, but instead of placing him on his bed, he turned to give Clarus a single look. One they had practiced for years both in human and in wolf form. They would return to this room shortly, once Noctis was cleaned.
And yet, he did not close the door to the attached bathroom. It was late, and no attendant would want to chance the risk of turning. Yet Regis did not hold that fear. He was, after all, a pack-brother to them. So in a display that would have otherwise have earned a note of protestation from any of his advisers, he took care of making sure his son was thoroughly clean himself.
"Daaaad, I can do it myself..!" Noctis protested, only to earn a chuckle from the king. The boy huffed, even though he did a good job on his own, he couldn't quite reach his back, where much of the blood had been splattered.
"I know, Noct. Allow me to at least assure your back is cleaned?"
Noctis blew a raspberry. His father took that as a "yes." So, in little time at all, Noctis was cleaned and redressed The moment his feet touched the ground again, though? He was sleepily walking over toward the son, wrapping his tiny arms around his neck and being careful not to get more blood on himself. "Thanks, Gladdy."
His father had told him that it was, in fact, his future Shield. Someone he was now expected to forge a dual-bond with; the same bond their fathers had.
Noctis barely registers his father placing a potion bottle on his nightstand, before catching him resting a hand on Clarus' large shoulders. He smiled faintly at their dads and nodded.
Welcome to dealing with Lucis Caelums when not involving shitposting....
The small boy heaves a sigh of relief, smiling faintly at the younger wolf. Though when he sees that limp, he tugs on his dad's shirt. "Dad... he's hurt."
Regis paused slightly, looking to his lifelong friend's son and too noticing the limp. Humming to himself as he thought, he nodded. "Then your first task in the morning will be to tend to him once he has transformed. After,, you are grounded for a week."
He opened the door to his son's chambers one-handed with practiced ease, but instead of placing him on his bed, he turned to give Clarus a single look. One they had practiced for years both in human and in wolf form. They would return to this room shortly, once Noctis was cleaned.
And yet, he did not close the door to the attached bathroom. It was late, and no attendant would want to chance the risk of turning. Yet Regis did not hold that fear. He was, after all, a pack-brother to them. So in a display that would have otherwise have earned a note of protestation from any of his advisers, he took care of making sure his son was thoroughly clean himself.
"Daaaad, I can do it myself..!" Noctis protested, only to earn a chuckle from the king. The boy huffed, even though he did a good job on his own, he couldn't quite reach his back, where much of the blood had been splattered.
"I know, Noct. Allow me to at least assure your back is cleaned?"
Noctis blew a raspberry. His father took that as a "yes." So, in little time at all, Noctis was cleaned and redressed The moment his feet touched the ground again, though? He was sleepily walking over toward the son, wrapping his tiny arms around his neck and being careful not to get more blood on himself. "Thanks, Gladdy."
His father had told him that it was, in fact, his future Shield. Someone he was now expected to forge a dual-bond with; the same bond their fathers had.
Noctis barely registers his father placing a potion bottle on his nightstand, before catching him resting a hand on Clarus' large shoulders. He smiled faintly at their dads and nodded.