The Tangle lips are raw with this truth you have known all your life

Pipin studies the paths before him, still deliberating on which path he wants to take whilst calculating the probability of going in one giant circle and winding up in the exact same clearing again. The conclusion of said calculation ends in almost certainty and he frowns suddenly, his shoulders drooping as his ears lower to lay nearly touching the curve of his skull. Before he can slip into a pensive, depressive state as he considers how long he can survive being lost in this ghastly territory his rumination is broken by a chuff; and currently it’s the most fantastic noise that Pipin swears he’s ever heard in his life. His ears perk atop his skull and his shoulders rise at the prospect of company and relief that maybe he will make it out of this creepy witchy-eat-your-pups-for-supper territory after all! Despite the protest in his muscles, and the smart of his shallow scrapes from his earlier fall he turns to face the stranger with renewed vitality in his movements: becoming animated once more.

“Oh! Yes, hello!” Pipin greets the male with his usual friendliness, his tail wagging amicably against his hocks as his pale, Champagne golden gaze takes in the stranger, ghosting forward a few steps though mindful to keep ample distance between them just in case. “Are you from around here?” Pipin inquires hopefully.