Broken Boulder when i am ten feet tall

A strange melancholy gripped him as the cold set into his bones. He slowed even further, pace almost sluggish. Just as he had almost reached his den, a familiar sound reached his ears— Ulf. Startled, he turned, dropping the herbs he was carrying. Oh— shit, He bent to pick them up.
Sorry, Alarian's voice was muffled as he lifted his head again, mouth full of plant. He gestured in the direction of his den. Come to my den?
He assumed the answer would be yes, and turned to lead the wolfdog there. Part of him dreaded Ulf being in his den— his herbs were sorted rather carefully, but they weren't necessarily... consolidated. It would be easy to disturb them. But there was rain, and Ulf was cute— admittedly, that was a big factor for Alarian in deciding whether or not he'd be mad at someone. Oops.