Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 312 Lisa: Elverly's Seasonings

LISA

"So, this is the face," I explain, pointing to my crude circle. "And these are buttons on the side for different functions." I add a few lumps to represent the buttons.

The Grand Sage peers at my drawing, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "I see. And you believe we could adapt something like this for magical communication?"

"Maybe?" I shrug, feeling a bit self-conscious about my suggestion now that I've said it out loud. "I mean, I don't know much about magic. It was just an idea."

He nods slowly, his eyes still fixed on my terrible sketch. "You know, Lisa, your idea has some merit. The compact size would certainly be an advantage. Of course, I'd need to acquire some of these watches to see what I could do with them, but it's an intriguing concept."

A warm flush of pride spreads through my chest at his words. It's nice to feel like I've contributed something useful, especially when I often feel so out of my depth in this magical world.

A strange scratching sound comes from the door, startling me out of my warm glow. I glance at the Grand Sage, who looks equally puzzled.

"I'll get it," I offer, pushing away from the table.

As I approach the door, the scratching intensifies, sounding distinctly impatient. Curious, I turn the handle and pull the door open.

To my surprise, Selene slinks into the room, her silver fur gleaming in the dim light. Ice-blue eyes meet mine before she pads past me, walking straight toward the older gnome, where they stare at each other in silence. Probably mind-reading each other or something.

for a washcloth and wiping the floor. Muddy paw prints trail behind Selene, leaving the marks of her presence. "Walking into a

the mess. But Selene isn't a dog. She's a proper wolf

them, her ascerbic words even throwing Selene off guard. The

She is a guest here. Do treat her with

she turns her gaze from Selene to the Grand Sage. Her wrinkled face contorts into what I can only describe as a grimace of politeness as she curtsies. It's like watching

my unseemly outburst, Grand Sage," she intones, her

of my cheek to keep from laughing. Elverly's delivery? Let's just say she'd never make it as

stops abruptly as she stomps over, each step

jabbing a gnarled finger at my midsection. "Kitchen. Now. We need

face. "Didn't you say I

already turning towards the kitchen. "You're getting fat.

she just complaining about the quality of the

shoulder that clearly questions my intelligence. "Of

consider her spice rack a priority during an escape. But then, a memory flashes through my mind—the chaos of our flight, the urgency,

"Did you... did you pack your

out pots and pans with a clatter that seems too loud in the sudden silence that follows my question. For

I did?" she challenges, one eyebrow raised. "Would you rather I left them behind?

stare at her,