Blackfeather Woods This time I will do it right.

His wails elicit a response. This is something he will remember in the coming days. The fur under his form shifts and something bumps against him, coaxing him in a specific direction. He manages to slowly turn himself, and only then does the familiar scent of the one who is not Burke and not Meldresi finds his nose. She is nearer than before, he senses. This pleases him and his wails come to an end as he lifts his head once more to survey the area.

Once satisfied, he hooks his frail forepaws into Burke's coat and begins pulling himself forward, sniffing furiously and grunting and squeaking the entire way.