A glance around showed that everyone was doing quite well.
Only Thorne was growing impatient, shifting his position again and again.
But while he couldn’t sit still, his attitude was extrely earnest. On sheet after sheet, the enormous characters for "Evangeline" filled the paper. The strokes were so forceful they seed to go right through the page, as if he had poured all his strength into it, nearly making her na burst from the paper.
There was so truth to the saying, ’the writing reflects the writer.’ The characters penned by each of the n had their own unique style.
Caden Albright’s writing was neat and ticulous at first, almost identical to her demonstration. Gradually, however, his true nature erged; a noble air beca increasingly apparent between the strokes, and the turning points even revealed a hint of untethered freedom.
Lachlan’s writing was equally neat, his pages filled with the na "Evangeline" to an almost exacting degree.
In terms of both spacing and size, the writing looked as though it had been asured with a ruler. It was flawless, save for the obsessive quality, and exuded an ascetic tidiness that made his handiwork instantly recognizable.
Danton was equally focused as he held the brush. His strokes were gentle and free-flowing, his pace unhurried. The end of each stroke often trailed off into a faint, wispy line, like the moonlit sea—calm, yet sending shimrs of light rippling across the paper.
Drake’s writing was just like him—powerful and sharp, like a spear ever ready to show its edge, unyieldingly proud and irresistibly keen.
The one who surprised Evangeline the most was Loras.
His temperant was timid and ek, and he always tended to evade problems, yet the characters he wrote were surprisingly expansive and grand.
The na "Evangeline," as it flowed from Loras’s brush, was relaxed and open, elegantly spaced, and possessed its own unhurried grace.
Once everyone had mastered writing "Evangeline," it was ti to practice their own nas.
Among the n, Caden Albright’s na was clearly the simplest. The nas of Lachlan, Danton, Thorne, Loras, and even Drake, were all composed of complex strokes and increased in difficulty. Naturally, the first to master his own na was, once again, Caden Albright.
Not only did he write his own na with impressive style, but he had also mastered Bunny’s na, all with ease.
Evangeline leaned against Caden Albright, watching him write the na "Bunny" on the paper. She casually stroked the little girl’s soft silver hair. "Bunny has gotten so big. Don’t you think we should give her a formal na?"
Upon hearing the words "give a na," Thorne, who had been engrossed in his writing practice, imdiately looked up.
His dark green eyes sparkled as he turned to look at the little one in Caden Albright’s arms. He smiled and said, "I think Bunny is a lovely na. It’s soft and sweet, and it sounds just like a na for a little female. What’s not to like?"
Evangeline raised an eyebrow and gently tapped the paper with her fingertip. "A nickna is for closeness, but she still needs a proper na."
Her gaze fell on Caden Albright’s face. "What do you think?"
As she spoke, Evangeline took the swaddled cub from Danton’s hands and gently tapped his little pink nose. "And this little one," she said softly, "should also get a formal na. It’s inconvenient to call him without one."
Danton looked up upon hearing this, gentle ripples spreading through his light blue pupils. His voice was like a clear spring. "Alright."
After Thorne’s comnt, he too had gradually begun to step into the role of a father.
After all, although the cub was not of his blood, he had witnessed the little one’s birth, watched him hatch, heard his first faint whimpers, and had raised him for a ti. The bond he felt was nearly as deep as that of a biological father.
Caden Albright tilted his head slightly, the cinnabar mole beneath his right eye breathtakingly vivid. "Eva should na them."
Evangeline’s long eyelashes fluttered, her gaze thoughtful.
’Beastn are usually straightforward with nas,’ she mused. ’There’s no tradition of passing down family lines. They see a mountain, they na soone Mountain; they see a cloud, they na them Cloud. But my Beast Husbands... perhaps because they are the male leads, all their nas are steeped in moonlight and mountain mist.’
"Faye Albright. How does that sound?" A small smile touched Evangeline’s lips as she looked at Caden Albright.
"Albright?" Caden Albright paused, a flicker of emotion in his usually llow voice.
A mischievous glint appeared in Evangeline’s eyes. "So everyone knows she’s your cub the mont they hear her na, right?"
"Faye Albright? Mama, why is Bunny being called Faye Albright?" The little girl tilted her head, her fluffy fox ears twitching curiously amidst her silver hair.
"You see, Papa is a snow-white fox, and Mama is a crimson-red fox. When the white and the crimson ca together, we got our little Bunny. From now on, Bunny will have her own na, Faye Albright. Does Bunny like it?" Evangeline held the cub in one arm and wrapped the other around Bunny, her eyes shimring.
"Mama, Bunny loves it!" Bunny threw herself into Evangeline’s arms.
’She understood now. She was Papa and Mama’s cub, so her na was Faye Albright!’
Caden Albright’s pupils contracted, and a glimr of light flashed through his amber eyes.
He suddenly realized that hidden within Bunny’s na was the sentint of their blood and bone becoming one.
His lips curved into a soft arc as he gently placed a hand on Evangeline’s waist. His eyes were tender, his voice affectionate. "The na Eva chose is beautiful."
"I hope Mama’s little fox grows up to be happy," Evangeline said, gently pinching Bunny’s cheek, her eyes curving into crescents.
Little Bunny spread her chubby arms, hooking one around Evangeline’s neck and grabbing Caden Albright’s lapel with the other.
Thorne’s dark green, slitted pupils darted between Caden Albright and Bunny, his expression quite envious. Then he glanced at the cub in Evangeline’s arms and raised a brow, his tone laced with a hint of challenge. "Then what about this little thing? What’s his na?"
"Yeah, yeah! Mama, what’s little brother’s na? Little brother is handso, he needs a handso na too!" Bunny said, holding her brother’s tiny hand and looking up at Evangeline expectantly.
Evangeline gazed down at the cub in her arms and said softly, "Let’s call him Genesis."
This little one was a butterfly beastman. Because of everything he had endured in the womb, the pulse from within his eggshell had been incredibly faint at birth. His beast form was fragile, and he had almost been lost. He needed a na with a powerful, auspicious aning.
The little one seed to understand. He tilted his face up, his rainbow-colored pupils reflecting Evangeline’s image. He suddenly broke into a gummy smile, his tiny hand clumsily grabbing a lock of her long hair. He sniffed her motherly scent and started to giggle.
"You must grow up safe and sound, my little Genesis," Evangeline murmured, her voice gentle as she looked down at him.
Thorne watched her from the side, his dark green, slitted pupils losing focus as he stared in a daze.
When his gaze shifted back to Genesis, he pursed his lips, and much of the disdain in his eyes had subsided.
The last rays of twilight were swallowed by thick clouds, and the sky grew dark.
When it was ti for dinner, Drake was absent.
Evangeline handed the soundly sleeping Genesis to Danton and stood up. "I’m going to check on Drake."
She arrived at the bamboo house where Drake and Julian were living and found the door wide open. The night wind whistled through the building, and it was silent inside.
Evangeline frowned. ’Did Drake leave without a word and go back to the Goldeagle Tribe?’
’I’m supposed to leave tomorrow to find the dicine. If Drake just left, it ans my attempts to win him over these past two days were a complete failure.’
"Drake?" Evangeline stood at the entrance and knocked softly. A mont later, a hoarse voice responded from within. "Co in."
Evangeline stepped into the bamboo house and saw Drake sitting by the window.
He had removed his silver Armor, and his body, clad only in tight-fitting black clothes, looked even leaner and sharper. The moonlight cast a cold gleam upon him, and only his golden-red ponytail seed to burn like fire.
Evangeline glanced around but didn’t see Julian, and her eyes narrowed.
Drake turned to look at Evangeline, his golden-red pupils like a pair of gems. When he spoke, his voice was perfectly calm.
"Julian left."
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