Pity etched lines of concern into his furrowed brow as he whispered softly, "You're not well enough to hunt right now, buddy. But we'll do it another time, okay?"
Morgan coughed softly, shaking his head stubbornly. "But... when...?"
Clyde let out a light scoff, a hint of amusement in his voice. "As soon as you're feeling better. I promise," he reassured, his tone gentle yet firm. "We'll ride horses together too. So rest up and get better soon, alright?" Leaning in, he planted a tender kiss on top of Morgan's fever-flushed forehead.
"Promise...?" Morgan's voice held a hopeful lilt, his lips forming a slight pout as he extended his small pinky finger.
"Promise," Clyde affirmed, intertwining their pinky fingers in a solemn gesture.
As he gazed at Morgan's weak but hopeful smile, the Alpha made a silent vow to stay by his side, embracing the boy until he drifted off to sleep.
