Shadewood Even though we know it, everyone remains in play.

With his shoulder nudged, Riley moved off. The beaver was given one last look — a longing one, perhaps, but for some reason Riley didn’t feel like getting wet today.

Well, not that kind of wet anyway.

His mate’s sultry tone drew a flirty smile from the male, who aimed another gentle nip at Masque’s good side as she stalked off towards the south. Come to think of it, Riley had never seen boar here; he sniffed the air inquisitively and fanned back and forth, canvassing the area and taking the brunt of the legwork to spare Masque any additional steps.

Oh - here. He nosed a patch that was particularly pungent, revealing older droppings between blades of stunted spring grass. Guess we’ll get to kill some rashers after all.