Honeyed Pasture the world is already on my side

I am sorry! This post is not very nice; I am feeling very sick. >< It is also a little bit rushed because I have work tomorrow.

Grayday did not question Szymon’s poorly worded half-truths, and it was possibly the first time in the golden-eyed Cairn boy’s life that his stutter presented an advantage instead of a handicap. Relieved that the mottled mountain wolf did not seem bent on continuing their stilted conversation, he backed away from the carcass — what he really wanted was the hide, and he did his best to say so. “Th-Th-This,” he stammered out, tugging lightly at the lovely spotted pelt. He would bathe it in the tidepools and hope the blood washed away — and if it lured a shark for the glory of Skellige’s wolves, so much the better. Then, backing away with eloquent nonchalance, he fanned an ear toward Grayday but turned his gaze toward the distant horizon. “I’ll take whatever else you don’t want,” his untroubled posture clearly stated. The extra meat would be nice to pad the caches, but he did not have need of this meat the way the inland wolves did.