King Elk Forest if all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail

He did not expect, nor hope for, extended solitude, and was not at all bothered to see the white female from the creek appear. The stick was held between his forepaws as he watched her approach, his ears lifted with interest. Her comment drew one corner of his mouth upward in a half-grin. "Yeah, but at least a stick won't fly off or scurry down a burrow," he remarked. With one paw, he shoved the branch toward her. One end was frayed and gouged by his fangs, but the rest was sleek, untouched. "Want a bite?"