Blood on my Hands

WOOHOO

The acceptance of dismissal was given with a nod of head. This pleased the spider. It would allow time to gather strength and resources in order to focus for the lesson to come. 

There was a reluctance to leave, just yet, without one final imprint onto the borders. The Eta lowered head to smooth against one rock, paws scratching at the large object with a vigorous surge of muscles in order to produce not only hair scent, but that of secretions between toes. A turn of inky body sent the male back from the forward path, a lift of leg sprinkling one final spray of urine before wide paws picked up a trot. Lanky appendages began the slow trek back, wrapping against a jutting spire tip only briefly before diverting the road, scaling the slopes, and plucking a path back towards the center of the territory. 

Morning would come soon enough.