. . . Hallmar held Ohtli close to his body in the crowds. He was tall, an aged jotun with a twelve-tined set of pale golden antlers.
Ohtli was tiny in comparison. He towered over her, over two feet above her.
Regardless of that, Ohtli was his.
Possessively, his huge hand tightened slightly at her waist.
His mate, Ohtli, was a were. A were-hedgehog to be exact. Her hair was thick and wild and spiky, dark eyes round and tilted, heavy brows for a female and a very blocky figure.
Regardless of all that. She was beautiful and tiny but so, so vivacious.
His thought were abruptly interrupted by a sharp tug to his tail. He yelped and tucked the little bit of fluff down, hearing a giggle.
“Careful, hedgehog.” He rumbled, giving her a playful squeeze that made her yelp and smack his arm.
Hallmar chuckled and scooped her up, setting the girl on one broad shoulder.
“Are you happy, love?”
Ohtli smiled down at him and leaned a bit, hugging him. “Very happy.”
He rumbled low in his throat as she told him that, allowing himself a wide, warm smile. “See anything you want?”
Ohtli nodded again, then pointed. “I wouldn’t mind whatever’s in her purse.”
Hallmar chuckled. “Why would you like to steal her money?”
“I feel better taking money and buying something with it rather than just taking it.” His little shapeshifter explained.
The jotun smiled and shook his head a little, large ears flicking. “Alright then, we’ll get her purse, my sweet.” He promised and took her little hand and kissed her knuckles.
She giggled and blushed, then started to change into a black-and-russet hedgehog, clinging to his hand.
Hallmar smiled and placed the little creature in a large, cloth pouch at his waist.
This ploy always worked. . .
