Alcuin couldn't help but feel relieved at his inclusion within their pack dynamic. If he was honest with himself, he'd been worried about it ever since the picnic. There was no telling how tolerant or accepting of strangers any given werewolf pack might be until you ran afoul of their boundaries and he had quickly come to realize that his knowledge of them was insufficient. “Gloria is a wonderful cook,” he agreed, remembering how delicious everything was at the picnic, and finally reached for a sandwich slice. “It is a shame you do not come together more for meals, though.”
Alcuin wondered if his master got enough to eat after work while he took a bite of his sandwich. He must have looked contemplative while he ate though because Derek seemed to pick up on his thoughts effortlessly. He would have been distressed at being so open were it not so timely. “Scott is a very busy man,” he hedged quietly, his thoughts racing. “We have not yet had as much time as either of us would like to speak with each other...”
His sandwich suddenly became a lot more interesting to him as he fought not to squirm in his seat. “If you do not mind me asking,” there was an uncomfortable pause. “Who was the lady at the festival...?”