Broken Antler Fen sage bush pillow

Nab flicked her ears in amusement at the little girl's stuttered query. What indeed? she thought to herself. "I'm a moose, little hunter. Haven't you seen a moose before? Perhaps a dead one?" she asked gently. Maybe the girl was still too young to be taken whole foods - was she still surviving on mother's milk, or food from the bellies of her elders?

"All animals have the ability to speak to each other - but sometimes moose don't like to speak to wolves, and some wolves consider it very rude to speak to moose," she explained, trying to find a delicate way to put it. "It's the nature of a wolf to eat meat, and at times, they have to kill moose to do so. Moose do not resent this; it is the way of things - but they still would rather not have a conversation with something that would rather eat them.

"Likewise, wolves do not hate the moose. Most have a lot of respect for the creatures they hunt - but they will not waste their time trying to make small talk with a creature they know will always be wary of them."

She smiled down at the little pup. "But you are much to small for me to be wary of. What is your name, little one?"