The Heartwood my heart is like a stallion.

Summer watched as the critter answered his question non-verbally.  It was strangely wolfish of him - the twitching of his tail, the possessive dominance of his stance.  Were he wolf sized, Summer might actually have felt compelled to submit.  But, unfortunately for the weasel, Summer's paw was about half the size of its entire body, and thus he could only find amusement in himself in response to the display.


"Alright, alright... You win.  I'll take this..." Summer rumbled, leaning down to tug away a thick chuck of meat from the beast's haunch, "And the rest is all yours.  Just make sure you bury the leftovers - I'll be coming back through in a few days.  Hopefully.  Or maybe not hopefully, I don't even know where I am, do I..."  It was strange, Summer wasn't usually this verbose with his own species.  But anyway, the wolf dragged his piece of meat away from the rest of the carcass and began to feast, eyeing the weasel out of the corner of his ..eye.