Grouse Thicket the foetus of a new day kicking

lasher grinned in spite of himself, and at renoir's charming expression, suitably distracted from the grim and empty task of finding food for donnelaith's caches. on a whim he reached to the boy, and if allowed, he would press his muzzle against the aureate cheek. "pourquoi vous cachez-vous?"

he knew that renoir would take his meaning; the boy had avoided them since that day in donnelaith, where he ran from the weight of taltos' desire -- he would not press, of course, but curiosity blossomed in his eyes.