About an hour after the sun first descended and touched the ground, Faelenthir returned to their abode for the time being. In her mouth was a dirty but well used bag, which she dropped unceremoniously by Verraton. Leaves of the plants he was running low on, along with a slightly overripe fruit that she snatched for herself, almost tumbled out. Her tail's irritable flicking betrayed her as she circled and plopped down opposite the other wolf.
"Bushfeed," Faelenthir hissed as she licked her chops of juice. The fruit rolled between her paws. "You would turn them into vegetarians for sex by bushfeed. It's disgusting how that works."
But these were not loud and harsh words. They whispered and sat in corners like she did, the ramblings of someone lesser.
"What trick did you play this time?"
⎿ faelenthir :: 136 words ⏋
DaerilS
