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There was a toddler loose in Kaer Morhen. A black haired, cat eyed toddler. the kid sat in front of the hearth in the main hall, idly playing with some pretty marbles Lambert recently won in a round of gwent. All three wolves stood around the child, looking lost. The person they’d usually turn to in a dire situation was the one salivating over his own sleeve. Curiously, Eskel lowered his hand towards the baby. The little one gave him a puzzled look, then proceeded to grab and knaw his fingers. “Well, he has teeth already. That’s something, I guess.”
Lambert cackled. “I kinda like the old bastard better like this. No screaming, no disappointed faces, no punishment…”
“Just you wait ‘til its time to change his diaper. You just volunteered, baby wolf.”
Now Lambert growled. “Don’t fucking call me that, bear wolf!”
At the harsh tone, the little one jerked and fixated Lambert with big watery eyes. “Oh no. No nonono, I wasn’t talking to you, little shit, I was talking to-“ Vesemir started to cry, miserably. “-Eskel. Fuck.”
“Still prefer him like this?”
“Yes… but you could still call up that sorceress of yours, pretty boy.”
“Hm.”