Broken Antler Fen out of school go-go'n for a hundred or two

Lorcan watches as his chuff catches her attention but does not slow her purposeful stride any. Instead she appears to gesture towards the willow tree with an invitation. Lorcan gives a pause if only long enough to allow his dark orange gaze to sweep the immediate terrain around them. He can hear the moose still and there’s a twitch of his right ear that leads smoothly into action. His steps carry him towards the willow tree. He noses his way past the long, golden boughs of the tree, shrugging into the shelter. Lorcan sees her by the trunk and is mindful not to impose in her personal space, or rather, as much of her personal space as he can avoid invading. He settles around the curve of the tree from her settling onto his own haunches as he presses his shoulder against the rough bark of the willow’s trunk. “That was a heavy sigh,” Lorcan remarks about the noise she’d made when he’d been nearing the make-shift cover. He doesn’t necessarily expect her to divulge the reasons to him. He’s a stranger, after all, and it’s none of his business really. “I’m Lorcan, by the way.” He peers around the curve of the tree to glimpse at her as he offers his name and a small grin.