Fairspell Meadow saffron's curse [m]

pleasantly disturbed from his ponderings, lasher stood to wave his plume and touch his nose briefly to that of luke's, if the other allowed. "hello, friend," he murmured, grinning at the pale wolf's jest. "not today. i fear my prey is of a more stationary variety," he joked in kind, gesturing to the lovely expanse of meadow stretching before them. 

inviting luke to accompany him, the earthen servant set off to find its midst, muzzle dipping among the various nodding heads of bluebell and wildflower. "how have you fared?" he inquired, pausing in the sea of verdant grasses, the blades of which shuddered in an unseen, small wind to meet his companion's eyes.