Dawnlark Plains Threeskin

Ah - speak of the devil! Grayday grinned as Shale approached, his blind, blunt head swinging toward his littermate in welcome. "They're well. Cat's got 'em all fat and happy," he shared, reaching out to grab some part of Shale between his teeth with a playful growl. He gave a gentle shake of his head, trying to incite some play, but honestly he was prepared for Shale to disengage and be the boring old lump he was.

"And how are you?" he asked, shooting a knowing look in the other male's direction. "Anything you wanna share? Get of your chest?" God, Grayday hoped so. If it was Pema going into heat, she didn't have a lot of choices. It was Shale, Sylvas, or some loser they had never met. And Grayday didn't think she was interested in Sylvas, as good a man as he was.