Blackfeather Woods don't trust people you meet

it was unlike astara to forget her prized toad, but her attention was affixed elsewhere. she studied mou wide-eyed, her little nose rapidly flaring in and out as she exhaled, inhaled, and exhaled again; the glistening edge of her nostrils fluttering and her cheeks puffing.

eventually she made up her mind, and her posture relented. she was about to scoop up the toad again when mou's great head shifted, and a yawn split his features. she could not help but spring back like a startled cat, her fur on edge and pinecone tail straight up in suspicion. he had too many teeth, too close to her -- with a growl she lowered down, expecting some sort of hit from him.