Golden Glade it's your life, it's your call

Silas replied as if it was some kind of foregone conclusion, which made Tambourine grin. "Best buds," he concurred, sitting up a little straighter and holding out a mangled forepaw (remaining toes tightly curled) to fist-bump his pal in lieu of a handshake. Best friendship formally declared, he then flopped back to the ground with a more contented sigh.

He sprawled there for a few moments in the companionable silence, which was then interrupted by a rumbling from his belly. "Wanna grab some grub with me?" Tambourine invited, slowly making his way back to his feet and shaking the dusting of snow off his silvery pelt. He knew Silas loved a good hunt and would've offered to join him on one but Tambourine had been a miserable hunter before his feet had been jacked up and now he knew he just wouldn't be very effective in that department.

"I found this cache near the edge of the glade," he said, beginning his slow, ambling walk but waiting for his buddy to catch up and walk beside him. "There's a whole deer in it," Tambourine added conspiratorially. "I haven't told anyone else about it... uh, yet." He nibbled at his lower lip, exchanging a conspiratorial glance with his companion that betrayed the truth: he wasn't really interested in letting anyone else in on his discovery.