Blacktail Deer Plateau beguiling

Grayday was gnawing on a week-old femur bone from their most recent deer hunt, far enough from the rendezvous site that his children weren't likely to poach the treat from him. Although it had originally been given over to the three as a pup toy, their tiny jaws has quickly proven unequal to the girth of the bone. It'd gone to Dawn after that, in order to keep her occupied during her bedrest, but no one could keep Dawn on the ground, even with the promise of a nice chew toy.

So possession had fallen back to the father, who was rather pleased with this whole turn of events. Life, as far as he was concerned, seemed to be going very well.

It only improved when his Spiritwalker came like a ghost through the trees, the vivid red of the fox's pelt seeming drab and lacklustor next to the ginger-speckled vanilla of her own fur. She was a vision, in a word. All at once, the silvery male found himself giving up his prize, laying it eagerly at her paws before stretching into a playful bow, reaching out to nip at the carcass she'd brought along.