Sleeping Dragon Long Island

The skeletal little figure had found it rather difficult to soothe the burn that had followed losing his tail. Applying herbs had been something of a trick as well, but somehow he had managed well enough that the stinging had subsided and the fur was beginning to grow over the disgusting little nubbin that had been left behind in place of what had been a grand tassel. Glu had not even thought that his change in appearance would raise question from those in the pack, and for the most part… he had been correct.
 
Picking his way around with very little rhyme or reason, the sharp citrine gaze locked on a distantly familiar figure just at his front. Perking his large ears forward, the coywolf drew a half-smirk to the corner of his lips and he knocked his mind in an attempt to recall how he knew the fire-furred female. There was something about her that was all too familiar…
 
When it struck him, the cadaverous halfling adopted an expression of shock on his slender features. Shock because she had swallowed a fish whole before his very eyes and had drunkenly wandered into somewhere unknown. To see her again and in such fine health was a marvel. “You seem well…” he ventured with a curious glint in his gaze. His head was held submissively and yet his eyes trailed the figure of the woman.