Jade Fern Grove slender capes of red and chrome

"I'm sure you'll hear him rolling by from a mile away," he said, a faint smirk coming to pass across his countenance. It was probably a little mean to pick on Whittier, sure, but Pasha couldn't resist it either. If he had to guess what their brother was doing right then and there, he was probably about two paces from trying to crawl back into the womb of their mother. Truthfully perhaps none of them had missed Bazi as much as Whittier would have.

Stretching out a bit more as his brother nibbled at the rabbit, Pasha blew away a tuff of fur that came rolling towards him. He was tempted to keep on talking, but about what? For as curious as he was about what had happened to them all, he knew the story. He had heard the story, obviously. But that didn't seem so appropriate to talk about. Neither did talking about patrolling the borders, or picking on their brother any more. No sense in beating that dead horse. He was faltering and the sense of walking on eggshells was coming back full force.