Dawnlark Plains the twisted mouth

A chirpy voice lanced through Pura's head. Unless he was purposely avoiding detection, he did not spend much energy concealing his presence - after all, he was the monster under the bed. What was there to be afraid of?

With the echo of her greeting still ringing in his ears, the boy from the plateau turned to face his new little friend. She was a slight wolf - dark, although the setting sun made it difficult to make out any detail. Her eyes burned, accented by the light. She looked at him, curious.

Pura's ears scooped slowly forward, mimicking her expression perfectly. "I have bones," he told her flatly. Indeed, there ribs at his feet - as far as any wolf could tell, they were just any old bones. "You can have one," the strange man offered.