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.

grabbing for a washcloth and wiping the floor. Muddy paw prints trail behind Selene, leaving the marks of her presence. "Walking into a home, leaving it a mess. I'd never have a dog as a pet. Too much time spent

isn't a dog. She's a proper wolf and the Westwood Pack

points at them, her ascerbic words even throwing Selene off guard.

now, Elverly. She is a guest here. Do treat her with a little

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 a cat try

her voice flat. "It was

Elverly's delivery? Let's just say she'd never make

internal laughter, which stops abruptly as she stomps over, each step punctuated by a soft

finger at my midsection. "Kitchen. Now. We need

my face. "Didn't you

snorts, already turning towards the kitchen. "You're getting fat. You aren't

second. Wasn't she just complaining about the quality of the food here? "Did you pack

pauses at the kitchen doorway, throwing me a look over her shoulder that clearly questions my intelligence. "Of course I did. I understand what

into the kitchen, I can't help but chuckle. Trust Elverly to consider her spice rack a priority during an escape. But then, a memory flashes through my mind—the chaos of our

into the kitchen. "Did you... did you pack your seasonings before you woke me

pots and pans with a clatter that seems too loud in the sudden silence that follows my question. For a moment, I think she hasn't heard me. But then she turns, fixing me with those sharp eyes of

raised. "Would you rather I left them behind? Then where

at her,