Fairspell Meadow saffron's curse [m]

"Ah," said Luke, sporting a rather satisfied grin. "I guess that makes me special." He beamed, tail thumping and his head giving a sort of smug side to side shake, although it was all exaggerated, genuine playfulness. That was not to say there was not some degree of pride in his talent, for there was, he knew he was skillful at his game.

"Started as a game," he said as the pair strolled toward the stream in the distance, reflecting on his childhood when this inclination toward thieving first began. "I was little, and I just saw a chance for a bit of fun. I started with my siblings and packmates and I got scolded for that," he laughed. "But then I realized I could swipe things weasels and coyotes, and I eventually moved up to bears even. Anything. No one cared if I stole from them, and I was high on the thrill. So I kept doing it," he paused. "When I became a lone wolf, it was actually a handy skill to have on paw." He bobbed his head. There were a few meals he had at the expense of another creature's effort.

"You're not boring," Luke assured, sidestepping to bump his shoulder to Lasher's. "I enjoy your company," he smiled, the compliment sincerely meant. "I think I'm just weird," he laughed again.