Firefly Glen everything moves in circles

He watched the boy struggle to his feet, marveling at the way in which the mud marbled his chest fur, sticking it up in tufts or matting it in tangled messes. Some fur was left behind, which Njal glanced at, but he made no remark. His ears cupped the air as the boy spoke again, and this time Njal let out a small snort, amused by his attitude.

Neh, alright. Jerry. It didn't matter much to Njal. He wasn't bothered by much these days aside from his own aching body, or the growing hunger in the pit of his belly; but not even the absence of that old bull peturbed him. If anything it was Scimitar who would be agitated with this kid, seeing as that bull could have fed everyone for days on end - pack wolf or not - and the Neverwinter wolves were in great need, seeing as they had two litters to care for. Njal strode back the way he had come, stepping around Jeremiah in the process, and began to sniff at the earth and the air in search of another meal. As he idled, he murmured, think you owe me breakfast, Jerry.