Ravenshook Cliffs slipping down, down, down

When the compliment was returned, Lucas made quite the show of twisting his chunky self around to catch a glimpse of his considerable rump. He'd never really noticed before. He always guessed that he looked kind of like Laurel, being unable to see the bright white star that adorned his forehead or the less even patches where piebalding broke up his coat pattern around his ruff and face. In fact, he'd always assumed he was rather plain looking, so it was with a bemused expression that he turned back to Govinda and bobbed his head with a muffled, "thanks!"

But there was more conversation to be had, so he gently dropped the fox tail in an untidy heap over his paws so as not to rudely speak through it. "Aw, well, it dang near fell over all by itself," he admitted, "but it was good eating anyway!" He wished he had some of it to offer to the other wolf—on closer inspection he seemed a little worse for wear, not utterly haggard but not exactly pristine either—but he didn't. Instead, he nudged the tail forward with a broad paw and said, "you can have it if you like! Someone once told me it was good luck if you catch a fox by his toe, but I bet his tail is probably good luck too."

And then that question that was already becoming routine, which Lucas met with the same sunny disposition he would have if he hadn't already been asked it several times. "I lost my performing troupe in a storm," he recounted, "and wasn't able to find them. I ended up at the big water so thought if I stayed close, something good might happen." That was wishful thinking; more likely if Lucas stayed on the coast without seeking out a place to lend his skills, what few he had at his age, he would perish alone in the dead of winter. But he had an unflappable positive attitude and the true dangers of the world really were something the naive boy still couldn't wrap his head around. "What about you?" he politely returned with attentive ears cocked.