Dragoncrest Cliffs he has the holy fire of the gods within him

once more silkie finds himself at the mouth of hougeda. the morning is overcast and the day's heat had yet to reach it's peak. it was still hot, the air thick with moisture of a recent rain to boot. and though he peers curiously into the redwood forest nearby he stays where he is. something in his gut warns him that unless he's got an adult escort it's safer to stay close to hougeda ...probably safer to stay in the cavern but silkie's endlessly curious about the world. or perhaps, more specifically, the claimed territory of drageda. the rabbit leg he'd carried out with him is remembered suddenly, briefly forgotten in lieu of his excitement at the smells that lingered after a fresh rain. a droplet of rain water rolls off a large leaf where silkie has taken shade and lands on the crown of his head. for a moment it startles him from his breakfast, and the rise of his head bumps into the leaf and forces several more droplets to roll free and splash upon his muzzle and nose.

content that he was not being drooled on by something larger than himself silkie returns to his rabbit leg and strips it of flesh and meat, small chunks of carrion clinging to his — once — pristine whiskers where the blood now stains the sides of his muzzle and his chin a rogue red. when the bone is clean he clamps it beneath both front paws and begins to eagerly chew on it, teeth carving into it effortlessly, suckling the bone marrow — which had became his favorite part of worrying bones — with each bite.