A Different Kind of Apprentice

The molekin and the wolfkin stood there. Dazed and confused… Aakur rubbed his eyes. Gerrart shook his head with a flurry of blinks. Yet the scene never changed. 

Lobur was laughing like a madman while cupping his hands over his ears, proving to himself that it wasn't some trick. 

Meanwhile, Rizz picked up his tools and the ink jar before striding up the torch-holding duo.

"Sooo…? What are you thinking?" 

Gerrart stopped bracing his flinching arm. Both hands fell to his side. Unable to react…

Aakur swallowed enough of his shock to start speaking up. "That… That was truly a crest? Similar to those used for enhanced slavery?" 

Rizz tilted his head to the side. "Enhanced slavery? Is that what people call it nowadays? Slavery is slavery, with or without a curse. 

"And, by the way, that's a big fat NO!